Making the Path
by Disconnect
Summary: In which Alice remains but rather than settle into a life granted, she pushes on to the life she wants to lead. Underland still holds secrets to her and the greatest of all calls her North. With her path going through his past, Tarrant agrees to join.
1. Chapter 1

_Hello and welcome to the fic! Thanks for stopping by, read and enjoy at your leisure, comment if you like. I'm not stellar at updating and writing is sporadic from me but we'll see how this goes, yes? :)_

_Some quick notes. I own nothing but my own mistakes, interpretations, and a case of procrastination. This was inspired by getting a hold of the 1st draft of the movie script and loving how it fleshed out some of the characters more and it has a map!! I have since drawn and updated the map to fit my imagination, I'll eventually getting around to posting it so you'll know what's being looked at and where. The story is bits from the movie and the script so certain parts might sound off if you haven't seen the script. I also have never read the original Alice tales so please forgive me my faults and share your ideas._

_Novella over. On with ye!_

_xxx_

_ Parry. Thrust. Duck, turn, thrust! Oh hell…!_

Alice grunted as she fell hard onto her rear, a host of less than charitable thoughts storming her mind while her eyes glared at her adversary. Cocky and delighted, the young squire smiled down at her, walking a tight, slow circle while he waited for her to arise. Twice now she'd been dumped by this bloody upstart…Mally wouldn't let her live this down if she didn't get her head in the game!

She rolled to her feet, grateful for the moody coolness of the fall weather that let her practice in full armor instead of the looser and lighter leather armor. Not that it was any more comfortable but she felt it necessary to practice with the armor with reasonable frequency so she would understand the exact restrictions and precautions she may need to take. In her hand she gripped a practice sword, the blade a bit heavier than the vorpal sword. The true blade was feather-light but too precious to use in any other manner than its original purpose and even then, only the damn Oraculum would be able to tell what it could be used on.

"One more go, m'Lady, or you'll be turning in now?" her opponent asked with a charming smile.

She felt like slugging him. He was a heavy hitter, definitely a one-shot killer with little finesse and slow footwork. Alice had the benefit of speed but on this day, lacked the focus to use it effectively and she had been allowing herself to be worn down, her distracted mind forcing more effort into blocking rather than smooth parries that would put him off-kilter and at her mercy. Her arm was exhausted but distracted or not, she was not going to stand down. "Once again, good knave. With your leave that is?" she smiled sarcastically.

His eyes narrowed slightly above his smile and he took up stance once again, charging with gusto. Alice dodged his charge and deflected the back-swing of his sword, placing a foot back and lunging as he made the turn around. He stumbled slightly but caught his footing and smacked her blade aside, looking to close ranks but rushing past as she managed to twist away, smacking him smartly on the ass with the flat of her blade as he stomped by. "Yikes!" he yelped, laughing at her audacity and granting the third point to her. Sheathing his sword, he bowed deeply and with a faint blush. "Always a pleasure, Lady Alice! Please call if you have _any _further need of me!"

She smiled and nodded, quietly granting him leave and hoping she wasn't blushing. Such an offer had been extended from most of her sparring partners, ever since she had taken keener interest in swordplay and attended regular training sessions. Not that she took such offers up, certainly! It merely amused her as well as the Queen, giving them something to giggle girlishly about during private lunches and teas. Mirana had taken Alice on as an advisor while the young woman sorted out what she might do in Underland. Her legend as the Champion would precede her surely so getting work was not the problem…it was more what did Alice _want_ to do? She had an idea for travel, to see the lands of Underland beyond Mirana's tranquil kingdom, however the Queen would not let her go unless she took either a full escort or learned to defend herself properly and even then took at least two guards. Alice had opted for the latter because it promised something new and, until then, forbidden in her world. Sword training invigorated her, made her feel all the more independent and able and certainly made her all the talk of the castle for more than one reason.

Walking while catching her breath, Alice sheathed the practice sword with the whisper of metal on leather and began to loose the armor bits off her person. Once she had allowed Thackery to help her and, after a severe scolding by the blacksmiths, kindly informed the Hare that he would no longer be allowed to assist. It had taken hours to find the grieve he had thrown out of the fourth story and only the master smith could bang out the dents in one of the forearm guards. Thackery wasn't exactly embarrassed or heartbroken about it either way, simply offered tea…which she promptly had to duck.

Nivens crossed her path as she walked and graciously commented on her sword play's progression. "The castle is abuzz with it! They're all terribly impressed that you had little skill in sword play at all when you faced down the Jabberwocky and whisper about how much more glorious the battle would have been today!"

"I find little glory in battle, Nivens." Alice's face wrinkled in displeasure. "As for the Jabberwocky, I did nothing more than Absolem told me to do."

"Which was?!" he asked nervously.

She smiled as their paths diverted. "I just held on and let the sword do the work."

Armor loosened, it took only a few minutes to slip out of it all when she was back at her chambers, each piece being placed carefully on a stand designated for that purpose. Granted it would need to be returned to the armory but for just then, Alice allowed herself the time to view it privately. When not borrowed for practice, it would be moved out to the court hall when there were formal events as the suit was nearly as iconic as Alice herself and kept morale high. For Alice, it was a reminder of what she did and what was possible in Underland if she only believed in herself.

Free of the scale mail and plating, she considered her wardrobe, at length choosing an outfit similar to when she'd first arrived at the castle. The thick embroidered white linen was soft on her legs while the shirt was pure silk and a bold deep green color. Over that she wore another layer of white linen, the long and light coat making the stripe of green down her front all the more showy. It was a deviously casual outfit for her location but over her time there, Alice had learned that the Court of Underland was a quirky and unusual thing…once she saw a lord dressed in pompous finery escorting his lady while she was dressed in no more than her bathing suit! The Queen didn't seem to mind if her subjects dressed in their finest or their rags, she would see them all the same. Though she did pose more for her lords and ladies…Alice wondered if the woman's arms ever grew exhausted.

Not that Alice didn't enjoy dressing up. Such a thing had been a part of her upbringing from birth and it was a perilously hard habit to kick…especially when the dressmakers had worked incredibly hard to produce a number of divine dresses upon the news that she would be staying in Underland. And of course with the dresses came matching if not out-showing hats. Her eyes looked up within the chamber that held her clothing and above the gowns, dresses, and drawers were boxes…boxes upon boxes in fact, each one containing a hat.

It brought a smile to her face and made her wonder if the creator of said hats was in the castle that day. Mirana had been attempting to coax the Hatter into the palace and over the last thee years had celebrated small successes. He had been reluctant to leave the spot where he'd killed Time but steadily, he was doing more and more work out of the palace, the Queen having started her coaxing by giving Thackery his own kitchen. The Hare, without live targets, could be quite the productive chef and he delighted in his personal haven. This, of course, meant that Mally dropped by to test his cooking and make sure the cracked Hare had a steady supply of tea, which in turn forced the Hatter to visit the palace if he wanted to visit his friends. Next was a very generous workshop where the Hatter was welcome to turn his trade without feeling crowded out by seamstresses and tailors. There had been times where Alice had to bring food to the man for he would be locked away, entranced by his work and having no thought for Time, dead or alive, or for his stomach. Some nights she had even dawdled and fallen asleep on a cleared away divan or other soft space while she watched him work.

The day granted her a few hours before dinner and she decided to visit if the Hatter was in. Path set, she drew on a pair of soft slippers and left her chambers.

xxx

He stared. Stared at it intently.

And some days felt it staring just as intently back.

He closed one eye, then the other…then realized he couldn't see so opened them both once more only to find that small column of violet still staring back at him. His brows furrowed and he made faces to see if it would react but his opponent remained blank. One more face, this one of frustrated confusion, and he turned from the vial, scratching the back of his neck and reaching for his coat.

Suddenly enraged, he turned and pointed a finger at the object, eyes burning an aggressive orange as the full force of his brogue rolled forth. "You there! Keep starin' at me head like tha' an' yu'll find yerself buried fer th' flowers to drink!"

It remained impassive to his momentary rage and he resisted the impulse to throw it against the wall. _Alice_, he told himself. Alice gave him the vial for a reason…it was surely not to destroy it. The lass could more than handle that on her own after taming a bloody Bandersnatch and slaying the Jabberywocky! The problem was…he couldn't figure out the _WHY_. And the vial refused to tell him, sat there mocking him with its silence when clearly it had the answer! Didn't it…? Surely it would know its own purpose!

He blinked several times in quick succession as the haze around his mind cleared. He was slightly alarmed to find himself holding the vial he wasn't going to destroy! Quickly, he placed it back upon the mantle and stepped back, soulful green eyes blinking more as he gathered his coat and brushed aside the confusion with a laugh. He fled the chambers with undue haste, not wanting to tempt his luck with the vial again. The tiny thing was actually a turning point for him. The Queen wished him to be in-residence of the palace and had tempted him with all manner of lovely things however that tiny vial, holding the most foul violet blood of all Underland, had been gifted to him by Alice herself.

Memory made him smile…recalling her carefully pressing the vial into his palm and closing his fingers around it, unmindful of any stains, thimbles, or bandages. "Keep it safe" she had said, and this he would do. Hightopps were creatures of honor and though he didn't understand her wish to keep the blood around, he would hold it for her as she had requested. It was the reason he was here. Alice wanted him here, had given him a task to make him stay. So stay he would.

xxx

For about ten minutes, Alice had to patiently listen and feign compassion while the doorknobs whined their complaints. The white of the paint was too white, oak was so heavy to move, the Hare had pulled them both rabidly when they refused to answer a silly riddle, fall made the wood swell and shrink so quickly…the complaints of doorknobs were amazing to her still. Never would she have imagined them to have such a storehouse of woes! At length, however, they had graciously offered admittance and she'd been very careful to be extra-gentle in turning them.

From there, she'd left the doors open, the knobs chatting in quiet squeaks to each other as the Champion made her way around the room, marveling all over again at the mass of creativity contained in one space. One entire wall was nothing but bolts and stacks of cloth, drawers of buttons, and plush pads stuffed to brimming with pins so they looked like unearthly hedgehogs. She idled at the pins, smiling as she browsed the multitude. There were a great variety of them and a few handfuls that were of a plain, boring variety. Most of these were smaller than the ones tucked away in the man's hat. Those were a particular breed…as unusual as their bearer and oversized to the point where it didn't seem possible that they would actually be useful in hat making.

She had wondered about them at times but her thoughts rarely stayed there. The Hatter was constantly changing and her mind had a hard time focusing on just one aspect of him. One had to take him in as a whole rather than like him for particular bits…and Alice certainly delighted in his whole-ness. A long pin with an ornate cat twisted about the end of it came away in her hand and she twirled it about, strolling towards the windows of the far wall and watching the late afternoon light glimmer off its golden surface.

"A Lady of discerning tastes…though we knew that, didn't we?"

"Afternoon Chess." She smiled, not looking away from the pin as she greeted the purr.

A swirl of mist curled around her ankles and calves, twisting its way up her body before rubbing under her chin and gathering before her to form the slippery Cheshire cat. His eternal grin curled and a paw gently touched the molded end of the pin. "Cats have always been creatures of myth in Underland, you know…bringing luck or misfortune, changing sides depending on who you ask."

"And what has drawn their slurvish nature oot from th' shadows."

Chess sighed and his great eyes rolled. "Really Tarrant, must you sulk about like a child?"

Alice turned to see a somewhat irate Hatter in the doorway…the man's eyes a vibrant yellow with dark shadows spreading from his eyes. She wondered what the pair were fighting about lately and while his eyes were always of great interest to her, today her own eyes were drawn further south by a swath of overly bright color and she giggled, effectively shattering the tableau. "Oh Hatter, really…that fair blue is certainly not of your house!"

Tarrant's eyes warmed at her laughter and he laughed to hide nerves as he glanced down at himself. Mindlessly, he'd dressed himself in a pale blue tartan kilt before leaving his rooms. He remembered working on it a few days back but he'd chucked it aside in a momentary fit…not able to recall just when he'd finished it or why he was making it in that color. "Oh my, yes, yes you're quite right, my dear!" He pulled at the material, quirking a brow at her. "It seems like the color would fit you more, Champion. Such a calm blue is certainly not a Hightopp color!"

"Perhaps you should give her the kilt now?" Cheshire smirked more than smiled.

It had the desired effect, Alice's cheeks flaming a bit in embarrassment and slight alarm as Tarrant glared at the feline. "Dear, I should think not! I certainly do not wish to have that question answered right now!"

The distraction worked and pulled the eyes of both males back towards her. "Which question would tha' be?" Tarrant asked with only a slight growl.

Her blush died off as she held command of the moment, deliberately lowering her chin and regarding the Hatter from behind lowered lashes. "What _does _a Scotsman wear beneath his kilt?"

There was a flash of color to Tarrant's eyes and a rush of voices in his consciousness, a flood of responses that set his mind spinning, amplified as Chess laughed before vanishing with a sweep of his tail. Tarrant's heart began to race and surely he was rambling for nothing made sense and he could feel the edge approaching, creeping up like a freight train--

"TARRANT!!"

The rush withdrew so quickly that the sudden silence was staggering. He reeled slightly, grounded by the hands on his cheeks and the concern in warm brown eyes. "I…I'm fine…" he rasped, blinking hard and finding his balance again. "Fine…"

Alice watched him quietly for another moment or two before smiling. "My, what a little teasing does to you! I thought Scotsman were a stouter breed!" she jibbed lightly, hoping…

And being rewarded as he smiled, eyes narrowing and warming. "Oh it's stoutness you seek is it lass?" He stepped forward and she, still holding his face, was forced to step back. "You shou' know tha' Hightopps are a stubbornly hardy clan an' we dunot run from challenges!"

She'd been stepping back with each step he took forward, energized by the return of his spirit. Her body responded to his challenge on a subconscious level, the tension fast and thick in the air as it was whenever emotions ran high. Such games had grown common between them as the days in Underland went on and she relished each moment. Stopping, she smiled and stroked his cheeks, the pale skin having colored a bit over the last three years as though in response to Underland's own recent rebirth. Her eyes sparkled with mirth and she let her fingers trail off his jaw line, the digits skillfully weaving the feline hat pin into his lapel. "Not that he doesn't already watch from everywhere but I hear cats bring the most unusual luck."

He frowned down at the pin, seriously considering tossing it out of spite. But a calm breath and a smile from Alice convinced him that it wouldn't be so terrible. It was a good pin after all…even if it did have that damnable cat as a motif. "As you say, m'lady." He reached up and patted her hand over the pin, rewarded ten-fold with a brilliant smile from Alice.

"Good! Come then, show me what you've been working on aside from kilts woven from the sky!" she giggled, dancing around him and stepping lightly over to one of the many sketches that adorned his desks.

Tarrant turned and watched her move, enjoying the calm he felt around her. Things seemed to fall into order more so around her…at least as much order as Underland had.

xxx

The subject at the evening meal was Alice's swordplay (a topic of growing fervor as of late) and it was good that she was not yet tired of the subject herself since the ladies in attendance demanded a lesson right there and then! Alice had given in to the impulse and hopped onto the table, her skirts lifted cautiously as she gave a brief showing, having to duck a cup made airborne by Mally, who then slathered the Hare's nose with butter. To everyone's amusement, Thackery hummed and seemed to melt to the floor.

Tarrant gallantly stood and helped her down from the table, which made her smile and then him in turn. As she regained her seat, she tried to not feel floored (again), that her actions hadn't drawn immediate shock and disapproval, more so the nobles had merely applauded and began to chatter excitedly about it. Mirana took her constant surprise in stride and marveled when Alice would explain exactly why it was a surprise.

The pair surprised one another and challenged modes of thinking, Alice finding that despite her wild imagination, it was nothing compared to the possibilities that lay before her and Mirana was a huge aid in broadening her horizons. Of course, once that had included her full introduction to butterfingers and Alice had yet to forgive the Queen for that one…even if the food was delicious. It made her wish that she had the ability to draw in dishes from Overland…she would delight in serving the Queen oysters of a different kind.

"Everyone is in fine form tonight." Mirana smiled happily, requesting a roll and catching it as it was tossed at her head. Thackery howled and danced a jig in his chair when she waved at him. Mally ran up and down the table chatting up the nobles and keeping an eye towards the Hatter. For his part he entertained the ladies to either side of him, Alice to his left and a newly married Lady to his right.

"Indeed. Even Thackery has a new coat at last!" Alice clapped as he finished his jig, the Hare proceeding to listen to his meal as it critiqued his dance.

"The poor dear is so difficult to fit when he won't sit still." Mirana giggled. "Tell me, Alice, with your training coming along, have you thought more on where you would like to go? If nothing else I should like to prepare you as best I can."

Alice chewed thoughtfully for a moment, finding that it was the best way to keep herself from rambling. She had been partaking of the large library and its many maps, coming closer to an idea that she was almost ready to act upon. Mirana had insisted that Alice partake of the histories and take up lessons about Underland but Alice had taken it further and engaged in her own studies of business and travel. Her thoughtful silence was a new development over the past year and she found that it worked well to help her solve her problems…though babbling still took precedence at times. She swallowed and sipped at her wine, her eyes flicking briefly to her right when the Lady to the other side of Tarrent laughed brightly at whatever he muttered to her. She cleared her throat and took another sip of wine, missing the amused look on the Queen's face. "I should like, I think, to travel West through Snud and follow the Tugley Wood until the breach in Grampus Bluffs. From there I would head North through Witzend and follow the border of Iplam and Crims until I reach the Crimson Sea."

"Through Iplam and Witzend, did you say?"

Alice and Mirana looked to Tarrant, who blinked interested green eyes their way. It may have been imagination (oh the tangents that thought could bring in Underland!) but Alice thought she saw a mix of fear and anger in his gaze. Both were fleeting if there at all and she prompted him when the silence stretched. "Hatter?"

He blinked and shook his head. "Oh, um…yes, sorry. You'll be traveling through Witzend on your journey, m'lady? And Iplam as well I thought I heard."

"Currently it is a part of her plans, or so she has said." Mirana coaxed, noting that the new wife to Tarrent's right seemed a bit miffed that she was so suddenly ignored. She fought off a smile. "Our Champion has expressed a great desire to see how the land fares away from Marmoreal and Crims. Such marvelous ideas in her head, I can hardly wait to see what she plans!"

"Alone?!" he squeaked, eyes flaring yellow for a moment.

"Of course not, dear Hatter." Alice assured swiftly, placing a hand over the fist he'd formed. That fork would have to be unbent. "The Queen is sending an escort with me, two of her finest guards will accompany me once I feel able enough to defend myself."

The news didn't seem to lessen whatever demon was wrestling within him for his pupils contracted sharply and he looked away on the pretense of taking an usually large drag of wine. Mirana looked on with concern when even Alice's touch didn't seem to tame the tension within him. "Tarrant, my dear Hatter, does this news upset you? Is the guard too light do you think?" For her it certainly was but Alice was stubborn. "I had suggested additional but our Champion is quite confident."

Light?! Too light?! Of bloody _course _it was too light! What sort of Queen sent her Champion into the virtually unknown with naught but newly acquired skills with a blade?! His jaw clenched, he could feel the waves roiling within, ready to consume him when suddenly they receded…ushered back by the gentle pressure of slim fingers worming between his clenched ones. He gasped softly in surprise, looking at his hand clasping Alice's as though it were a new creature that would begin to sing and dance. Perhaps it would…his mind had generated stranger fantasies…

"Tarrant…"

The soft voice was concerned and questioning and he met worried brown eyes for the second time that day. His own warmed to a darker shade of green and he smiled weakly. "Forgive me…I…sometimes there are too many words and…" Mirana nodded and smiled to show she held no ill will. "I…" He carefully patted Alice's hand with his free one, working his own free as he heard whispers down the table. Alice was blushing as though she realized what she was doing and their hands parted swiftly. "In all honesty I do feel the guard should be increased." He raised a hand to forestall Alice's complaint. "Perhaps by just one member…I've always felt more comfortable with oddities, you see…"

Mirana laughed and Alice smiled so Tarrent relaxed. After regaining her composure, Mirana smiled whole-heartedly at him, the smile that all the kingdom loved. "My dear Hatter, should you think of a candidate suitable for this role of the odd guard, you have but to speak his name and he shall go with."

Tarrant smiled charmingly but said no more on the subject, merely sipping calmly at his wine and snickering as Alice quietly fumed at their oblique take-over of her previously well-ordered plans.

xxx

"Really! The two of you…I swear it seems that a conspiracy is at work!"

Tarrant watched Alice storm ahead of him while he politely escorted her back to her quarters for the night. Her uffishness was proving amusing and his giggles threatened to escape though a look into her flashing eyes let him know that it would be a bad, very bad thing. Having changed back into trousers after the kilt debacle, he jammed his hands into his pockets in an almost boyish manner, his spirits high despite the topic of her fervor. Without the giggles, it was oddly enough his lisp that conveyed his amusement. "It's only a matter of concern you know…can't have our Champion wandering off without protection! Underworld is still a dangerous land, even without the Jabberwocky!"

She glared back over her shoulder, eyes narrowing. "What is the point of training me in swordplay if no one thinks I can defend myself?!"

He stopped short to avoid running into her and laughed nervously, hands emerging from his pockets and fingers twisting round one another. "Alice, m'lady…it is not that I do not trust your skills with the sword…but…"

She waited almost impatiently, arms crossed and feet set at a stubborn stance, though they could not be seen for her dress. "I may prick myself on some thorn perhaps?" she snipped, truly irked with everyone's over-attentive care. Honestly, one did enjoy being cared for but coddled was another story entirely!

"Wh-what will critique you with every pass but never speak a word?" he stammered, snatching fragments of thoughts to bridge the way to his intended words.

"A reflection." Alice responded, softening slightly when she realized the Hatter was a bit nervous.

Her answer brought a brief smile to his face before he calmed enough to speak. "It is more that I do not trust them…t-to guard you appropriately that is." The surprise in her eyes and uncrossing of her arms encouraged him into rambling. "Of course, that is I would like to see you safe and sound, without a scratch while you're questing for the Queen, Queen quests, vest, scratch, sword, sav--."

"Hatter," she smiled, waiting until he had composed himself. "I do believe that is a reason that I can live with. However…" she turned and began walking which left him to catch up dutifully. "…you must tell me the name of this knight that you think will offer such protection and not annoy me further into madness." Her tease was said with an affectionate smile.

"Ah, well that is the problem. You see, I hadn't a knight in mind…in fact he's not even ranked among the Lords of the castle."

"Truly?" she pondered this riddle until they paused before the doors to her quarters and even then, held her chin and frowned. "Well whoever it is must also be within the Queen's trust and if he is not a Knight…" She noted Tarrant's slight shift in posture and smiled. "Ah yes of course! Thackery!"

"Thackery?!" he balked, deflating with such a comical expression that Alice had no recourse except to laugh. Realizing she was playing with him, he grinned and crossed his arms. "You, m'lady, are trouble! I should fear more for the knights accompanying you than for your safety!"

"Oh come now, am I so unbearable?" she smiled winningly at him, tugging at his cuff.

"With that smile," his arms unfolded in a graceful shrug. "I fear all of Underland is doomed to fall under your spell."

"Ah yes…" she rolled her eyes in a highly casual manner. "Another thing to handle while traveling…the affections of my protectors." She shook her head and moved on before she could risk expounding on that issue. "I am thinking correctly that you are offering your services, yes good Hatter?"

His eyes seemed to warm to a darker shade and his smile was broad. "Indeed, m'lady. Verily, I offer to champion the Queen's Champion…if you'll have me of course." He offered a shallow, polite bow.

She smiled but looked uncertain. "Tarrant…the last time I saw you wield a weapon was the Frabjous Day and then it was still a short battle. Only one other time have I seen you take up arms…are you sure you are fit for such a task?"

He regarded her with an odd expression for a moment, as though confused by her doubts. When he spoke, his brogue rumbled softly through his words. "Ah and now it is you that doubts my skills. If it pleases you, I c'n offer a demonstration of all sword skills I possess."

"Tonight?" she breathed, blushing faintly at the innuendo created but meeting his eye dead-on.

A strange buzz tickled at the back of Tarrant's mind but he ignored it with practiced ease. "If you like…though I dare say that tomorrow may be best. You'll need a full night of sleep t'keep up with me, m'lady."

His smile made the returned innuendo all the worse and Alice reigned herself in before the game became wholly improper! "Well then I shall bid you a good night, my good Hatter. Shall we plan for your demonstration sometime after breakfast then?"

Eyes a warm green, he tipped his hat to her. "You have but to summon me, Alice. As always. May your dreams be sweet."

"May your night be peaceful." she returned, meaning it whole-heartedly.

Without warning he swept her up in a hug, something she was starting to expect on a random basis. It wasn't done often but when he did, she felt immeasurably better about things if she were upset or all the happier if she were content. She returned the embrace as best as she could with her arms somewhat trapped before she was gently set down again, where she smiled at her friend and slipped into her room.

When the door clicked closed, Tarrant turned and began to stride down the hallway, his thoughts towards the next morning…and a weapon that had remained polished and sharp since Horunvendush Day.

xxx

In the warming air of the morning, the dragonflies remained curled within the shadows of the palace, chirruping and chittering at passerbys. A few flitted from shade to shade, looking for spots that were perfectly warm and cool to keep their tiny bodies temperate. One even danced around Mirana, becoming so bold as to perch on her shoulder and squeak loudly. The Queen lifted a pale hand and used the back of a finger to caress the long, scaled underbody of the creature, who chirped and resumed his search for the perfect place.

Alice watched the interaction with quiet awe. No creature seemed beyond Mirana's effect…even the Bandersnatch rumbled in affection when she approached despite its snapping at all but Alice. "I think I will never tire of seeing that. People pay amazing amounts to see such skills in the Otherland and even then, those who can interact with animals in such ways do not ever fully trust the creatures."

"Ah, and there is the problem, don't you think?" Mirana grinned. "You cannot expect to receive trust without first giving it!"

"How do you know they will not bite?" Alice countered, stretching her arms and tying her long locks back with a leather thong. "I saw a man once who boldly sauntered about a lion that had all its fangs ready for bear! Everyone feared he would be made the lion's lunch."

"Silly man…why not simply ask the lion if he might enjoy making show? Lions do make fantastic actors, you know."

There it was again. Alice laughed and shook her head, once more side-swiped by the knowledge of where she was. _Animals can talk_. A slow sigh drained from her while she pulled on the leather jerkin she would be wearing today. The late morning air was just as cool as yesterday however she didn't feel the need for either plate or mail for this session. Her doubts had been voiced in a handful of small comments while Mirana had waited with her for Tarrant's arrival and she had a feeling that the Queen caught each whisper.

The training area was arena-style, the dirt compacted down over an age to form a solid, flat surface on which to practice…though it made for a bitter landing. The arena was round with stone seating and some days could be over-filled with all the soldiers as they held their own tournaments for personal glory and gain. A much more formal arena was located on the other side of the palace for official games and the glory of royalty. More than a few times, Alice had been invited to the unofficial games and while she had watched once or twice, she had yet to participate…though she had a feeling that her opponents would not fight her with how they treated her! A Champion and Icon, certainly…but Alice was still a woman and a beautiful woman with the Queen's favor…the soldiers didn't dare harm her!

Mirana watched while Alice sauntered about, swinging her sword without actually working her arm. She debated with herself since she had inside knowledge of the Hightopp bloodline and its many skills and quirks but knew that Alice learned best when she learned for herself. Those questions and doubts would have to be banished by Tarrant himself, which made Mirana hesitate. Should she stay? It was a potentially dangerous gamble to leave Alice with the Hatter alone when a fight was involved. "You doubt that Tarrant can fulfill the role of a guard, Alice?"

She hadn't said as much, not directly anyway, and sighed as she turned to Mirana. "I don't doubt that he is a passionate man, fully willing to carry out what he swears to do. I simply don't know what sort of skills he has in fighting. The first time I saw him fighting, it was against three red guards. The odds were certainly off and he was not brandishing a blade…the fight was brief at best. The second and last time was the Frabjous Day and then, I had a Jabberwocky hungry for my head so I couldn't spare a moment to watch him fight. For all I know, he could have been swinging Thackery around by the ears!"

The words were born of nervousness so Mirana let the small insult slide without rebuke. "I can assure you that was not the case." She paused, spying the topic of their conversation on the approach and looking…well…very, very different!

Seeing the Queen distracted, Alice turned to follow her line of sight and felt her jaw unhinge slightly. Tarrant was on the approach, bearing the claymore he'd brought to the Frabjous Day, however the Hatter was completely different from that day. Gone were the bright trappings and the kilt and sporran, no merrily colored jacket covered him, and even his trademark hat was missing for the moment. She dared to think that the Hatter looked almost frighteningly normal…such that he would pass in Overland! The wild hair had been pulled back, draw into a gentlemanly tail at the base of his skull…though the affect was ruined slightly by the nearly explosive pattern as the tail's curls spun out behind his neck. His pants were a solid, dark green color while his shirt was an off-white, covered by a quilted doublet of bright red. Tiny glints of light revealed fine gold threading along the seams. The clashing doublet was perhaps the only thing that kept Alice from demanding if he was feeling well.

Mirana nodded to Tarrant's gracious bow. "No hat today, good Hatter?"

He grinned and indicated the claymore. "It merely awaits my return. It was rather upset with me after my treatment of it on Frabjous Day, you see, so when I mentioned the demonstration today…"

She laughed softly. "Indeed however I am sure it understands that there was more at stake than a bit of dirt." Discreetly, she nudged Alice.

It was enough to bright the young woman back to the present and her cheeks blushed. "Good morning, good Hatter."

Green eyes shifted and pinned her before Tarrant bowed once more. "A fine morning it is, m'lady. You seem ready for the day." His eyes browsed her training outfit, from boots to hair tie and Alice felt him taking measure of her…quite literally. Mad or not, the man had excellent spatial and structural reasoning and it showed when he smiled, apparently pleased with the numbers he reached. "The armorers have fitted you well."

She blushed but smiled. "Thank you, I quite agree. These are most comfortable. Do you not wish some armor of your own?"

He laughed. "Nay, these articles will tide me over well however I am grateful for your concern. Will you be watching the proceedings, my Queen?"

Drawn in, Mirana noticed that Tarrant was watching her somewhat eagerly. Perhaps he held the same hesitations that she did. "As this is a match in good fun, I would certainly enjoy a demonstration, my dear Hatter. It has been quite some time since I have seen you take to a weapon."

His smile was enigmatic then and Alice was left to ponder the unsaid before they took up their places, her bearing sword and shield (both of standard fare as the shield remained with the Vorpal sword) and he drawing the claymore. She began to take stock of him, putting aside the shock of his outfit and all doubts of his skills to measure her opponent, as a rather determined White Knave had insisted and finally managed to get her to do regularly. The blade was impressive and long, well-kept as far as she could tell. It would give him reach but it was certainly a two-handed weapon and would limit his motion somewhat. His legs were longer than her own and would also help give him reach…not to mention she had seen him move in strange and unpredictable ways before. She would need to be very alert.

He watched her study himself and allowed her the time to do so as it also gave the Queen a moment to clear the field. For his part, he decided he would need to cut the White Knave a bit of slack. Alice surveyed him like a true opponent, which made him feel better about the impending clash. Tarrant had not attended her practices for purely personal reasons, knowing that any ache to her, accidental or otherwise, would risk sending him into a fury and practices were all about getting hurt and learning how to not get hurt. Looking over her, he saw that her balance was very well centered and planned to take her shield away first to see if her balance remained as even. Next, while her eyes were quick to take him in, they were also moving too quickly, flickering nervously back towards the claymore in his hand. Possibly the blade's reach bothered her…should he let her close ranks on him? He had ways of dealing with close fights as well…

Sharply, he cut the line of thought off and closed his eyes for a moment, knowing they would have revealed too much. This was not the Horunvendush Day, Alice was not a red enemy, there was no one to kill here…no need to be vicious. He took a breath and slowly released it as he opened his eyes, smiled, and nodded towards Alice. "When you are ready, m'lady."

Alice attacked without further preamble.

Tarrant immediately brought his blade up and deflected the fast swing of her arm, surprised at the strength behind the blow. It must have shown on his face for her caught sight of a smirk on her lips as she passed him, readying for the next motion, which he decided would be hers, putting himself in a defensive stance. "Fast, Champion…very fast."

She feigned a lunge and came round for his left side, he barely getting an arm out in time to slap the blow away and send the claymore singing past her ear, which put a look of shock on her face and made her tense up. He wasn't certain of the color of his eyes however he knew the look of hers, wariness…unease. Perhaps his jest had been too close for comfort and he apologized by throwing himself deep into defensive mode, letting her rain blows until one managed to floor him.

She had her point but stepped back quickly, breathing heavier than she aught to be. Her doubts about Hatter's skills were dissolving but she wanted to push him now…needed to gain an idea about his limit while Mirana was there to safeguard. A couple of guards had trickled into the arena seats and were watching warily though she could only imagine their thoughts as the Champion battled the Mad Hatter while the Queen looked on. Her quick retreat proved wise as Tarrant was on his feet only moments after falling and it was his offensive turn, putting her shield and footwork to test.

Careful. It was a word which he had little association with, as proven by the multitude of bandages on his fingers. Yet he was trying very hard to be careful and not lapse into that comfortable, numb haze that fighting would place him in. However he was not helped by the memory of fighting Stayn and how utterly marvelous it had been…so free and so pure…a white noise of nothing but the desire to kill his opponent; years of agony at the loss of his own released in a glorious flow of movements bent on one goal. It was a type of madness, he was sure, and it was a seductive call…

Alice's shield slamming into his back alerted him that he'd wandered off somewhere and he rolled, getting to his feet and taking a strong, calculated swing that ended up knocking her shield free of her grip. Unpredictably, she closed in immediately rather than stutter in shock and slammed into his body, knocking him flat on his back. The momentum carried her as well, however, and she landed atop him, scrambling for the offense and grasping his hair, pulling his head back roughly and pressing her blade under his chin. It was a weak threat at best. Her hand was too far from his neck to provide the needed pressure to cut his throat and given that his hands were still grasping the claymore, he easily could have brought them down on her head, potentially breaking her neck.

Yet he didn't. Yellow had flooded his eyes and he heard their audience rise with quiet gasps however he laughed, laughed because if he didn't he was going to do something he would kill himself for. Laughter was easy, fast, and confused the madness, took away its threat. Alice held eye contact with him through the maelstrom and he focused on that. She was still there, her position still threatening but the fight was gone from her eyes and she was waiting for him, calling him back silently. Within a few moments, green rushed his irises and his body went limp on the hard ground. "I dare say you've won this round, m'lady!" he laughed heartily, sounding himself again.

Mirana nearly fainted with relief, the White Knave there to offer support as one of the squires had rushed to let him know the situation. Out of breath as she was, Alice still laughed and relaxed atop her opponent and friend for a moment, rising before the whispers could start up. "Come on then. A round like that deserves good tea for reward and we must find your hat and settle this silly disagreement!"

She helped him to his feet, both met by Mirana as she approached them, her face slightly flush. "Well I should dare say that the Hatter will provide a most excellent guard should our Champion fail!"

The gentle tease was met with good-natured chuckling that released the uneasy tension from the Hatter's slip into insanity. Mirana bid them a good day and the combatants left the field quietly, Alice holding her silence until the squires were no longer within earshot. She had found that the young knights were worse gossips than the chattiest bed of flowers! "Tarrant, I am sorry I doubted you."

"I did not…scare you…did I?" he asked uncertainly.

"Only for a moment." Alice answered with honesty. "Though I feel confident that you would never hurt me willingly, my friend."

"Be it in my power, I will never hurt you." he affirmed, frowning at the implication. "Though at times it is not within my power since my mind wanders and suddenly it is all too fast to catch befor--."

Tarrant paused, cut off as Alice grabbed his hand and effectively ended his rambling. "I am not worried, Tarrant. Neither should you." she smiled at him.

He smiled, feeling close to ten feet tall when she showed such confidence in his mind. "Fruit with the tea perhaps? Something light after our engaging rounds this morning."

"Bring your hat," she grinned.


	2. Chapter 2

One of the nicest things about being in Underland instead of Overland, at least for Alice, was that one typically didn't have a set time to rise. Time seemed to wake you when you needed to be woken, be it in the middle of the night or halfway through the day. Since Alice didn't have a declared purpose, Time had been particularly generous and she had enjoyed many days of late starts. And since by late-morning Mirana was already in court, Alice had a bit of time to indulge her curiosities freely instead of being taught about curious things. This had aided her exploration of maps which gave way to her current plans. The idea was a year in the making, now she had only to plan it out in detail.

Rested and ready, Alice began this day with a stack of maps, a small pile of books, and a smile. Dressed down in silk pants and her favorite bright blue ghillie shirt, she sat before the fireplace of her chambers, tugging at the lacing of the shirt while her eyes browsed the paths, a nearby pen occasionally lifted to scribble down a note or a path idea, places she wanted to see and places to avoid if possible. Her lips quirked as she released the lacing, lifting two handfuls of the loose shirt and pressing the material to her nose, breathing deeply. She'd stolen the shirt from Tarrant's chambers a month ago in a fit of romanticism and kept it hidden away. The scents and embroidery on the material helped to keep her calm when she needed to think and helped her sleep when her mind was running rings. Otherwise it simply made her smile and she felt that was justice enough.

The Tulgey Wood, as far as she could tell, would be the absolute least of her worries. Despite its many odd inhabitants and ability to turn you around in the blink of an eye, she had traveled the wood with the Bandersnatch and accepted Cheshire's offers of guidance. The wily cat happily led her hither and yon and sometimes advised (always only when he wished to) about the creatures and secrets of the wood. Only once had he had led her truly astray and then she'd delivered such a tongue-lashing that he never attempted it again. She planned to not travel straight through the woods however it could be a possibility, just one she was hoping wouldn't come to pass. Should it come to that and with the Hatter in attendance, she doubted Chess would attempt anything incredibly foolhardy but one could never tell with those two. One day they were friends and the next hour they were bitter enemies. Frustrating was a polite term for it.

The region of Snud was unexplored for Alice, at least all but the northern most tip of it, where the land was caught between Crims, Queast, and Marmoreal. Since her drive was North rather than South, she figured things couldn't be too incredibly different in the area she would cover from what she knew currently. The terrain maps and texts didn't show anything that might shock her or provide overt difficulties but one never knew. The Grampus Bluffs, however, were something new for her. Once, she had been told that they were the gateway to the Outlands and if one had the right footing and a strong will, the trip could be made to and from. This time, she didn't intend to find out but perhaps she could talk to Bayard one evening. The loyal bloodhound was from the Outlands originally and could give her facts over fiction. What she did know was that a stone arch opened the bluffs and would give her access to Witzend without risking the Tugley Woods or having to cross Iplam and Crims. Flipping through one of the texts, she found the picture she was looking for; one showing an artist's exceptionally detailed image of this stone archway…by all reports it was the only clear way into Witzend if one didn't want to cross Crims. The arch looked desolate with scraggly trees that looked strangely alive though there seemed to be little else of vegetation.

Past that, reports of Witzend were wanting after the Red Queen's takeover. According to the histories, the land was strangely warm and welcoming when considering the Outland Crags loomed over its fertile lands. The people were a farming and artistic breed, connoisseurs of food and drink and creators of the finest art in all Underland. She was told that the Hatter and Hare were born in Witzend though where no one seemed to know specifically. Perhaps, if she asked, Tarrant might elaborate somewhere along the trip. She pulled the shirt tighter around her body, worrying if asking might be worse than not knowing. After all, Iplam had been created when the Bloody Red Queen had won the challenge over her sister…the damn Jabberwocky's personal celebration had been to torch a fertile and highly populated strip of land close to the Tugley Wood. One of those homes may have been Tarrants…she could only pray that somewhere, some how, she was wrong.

The thought ate at her and the book in hand was clapped shut and tossed back with the others, the Champion running her hands through her hair in worry. A long sigh escaped her and she rubbed her eyes as she stood, walking towards one of the windows and observing the snow that had been falling all morning. She leaned on the sill and smiled. In the courtyard she had view of, Nivens was dashing about in an attempt to cross without being smacked by Bayard's rambunctious pups, who kicked snowballs around the yard and took turns playing as their father in a game Alice had learned to take in stride. The young had coined "Frabjous Day" as an acting game and the pups especially delighted in it, Mallymkun bouncing between each of them as they growled, bayed, and "fought" against the JubJub, three-headed cats, and a giant angry panther with blood-red fur. Sometimes Alice would play with them and pretend to be one of the legendary enemies, other times she was forced to tell the tale of her own battle after they begged and pleaded for it.

Grey skies aside, it was truly a beautiful day and the snow only seemed to enhance the whiteness of Marmoreal rather than overstate it. Beautiful. She sighed deliberately, creating a fogged patch on the window and drawing a little heart with her fingertip. It made her smile wryly. As it faded away her expression grew blank and her thoughts turned inwards. By the time her plans were complete, the Underland winter would be done and spring ready…unless summer was over-eager again. Last year summer came straight after winter as though impatient to begin and it had burned strongly until fall nudged its way in. Her trip, ideally, would have her back in Marmoreal shortly before winter descended if she left right at the beginning of spring. A mental note was scribbled to pack lightly for winter conditions, just in case the thaw was slow or their return late.

A squawk of chatter drew her out of her thoughts and she looked down only to laugh. Bayard's children had their ears and heads down but their tails wagged defiantly as Nivens scolded them, having finally been smacked with a snowball. She unlocked the window, intent on calling down to them but was interrupted by a knock at her door. Curious since she hadn't called for any service, she padded to the door and opened it a few inches, and then fully as she saw her caller. "Oh, Tarrant! Good day."

"To you as well, Alice." he smiled, looking quite himself in striped pants, a maroon jacket, and a wildly spotted ascot. "Dear, I haven't disturbed you, have I?" He glanced to her rather casual attire, doing a double-take when he noticed the shirt.

She had the grace to blush faintly, not at her casual state but that he'd noticed the shirt. Normally she tucked it away whenever her came calling but it had slipped her mind entirely. "Oh um…no, no, I was just going over some maps, trying to finalize some ideas you know…"

"I do?" he cocked a brow. Perhaps he did and didn't realize it? Forgotten a conversation? Maybe she'd mentioned it over a fresh pot of tea...he never could focus as well when there was fresh tea to be served. "Well…I thought if you were available, you might like some refreshments. A break from...well, whatever you're doing?"

It was then that Alice noticed he'd held an arm out of sight and only then brought it forward to reveal a platter laden with tea and small foods; finger-sandwiches (oh how she'd had to rectify that the first time she'd asked after them here!!), cookies, cakes, and tiny cuts of meat and cheese. Quite frankly, she was delighted and it showed as her smile spread. "You are simply a god-send! Please, come in!"

Tarrant's smile couldn't have been wider and he nearly spilled the tray upon entering. He managed to balance out though and instead of the table where tea would normally be taken, his eye was caught by the spread of papers, maps, and books by the fire. Curious, he headed for the fireplace and set the tray down beside the spread of documents, his hat sitting to rest nearby. "This is the path you wish to take?" he twisted his head so the map was more right…then turned his head back with a scowl as he sought her out in the room. "This is headed for Salazen Grum!"

Alice descended gracefully to the floor, taking the tray and setting it on two pillows, creating a table where there was none. She'd been using pillows to sit upon while working and now felt the incredible irony of the moment. Traveler's tales spread rumor that the Chinese ate while sitting on the floor, scandalizing the English elite and tickling Alice's mind with the idea of spreading her father's ideas to China…just to see if it were true! There was only a moment of regret in her, the feeling soothed by the knowledge that in Underland, there was infinitely more potential…more so than Overland could ever dream to offer. "Yes, Salazen Grum."

He waited while she poured tea but when she didn't offer anything further he growled. "Into the belly o'that bloody place yet again?! Did yu no' have enough last time?!"

Laughter. Alice was warmed from head to toe that he was so concerned for her to be upset enough that his brogue would come out. "Oh my dear Hatter, please relax. Have some tea, it is a fine brew you've made." Her eyes sparkled as she sipped. He did as instructed but was still watching her as though thinking that _she_ had finally slipped to his level of madness. "It is very good, Tarrant."

His lips twisted for a moment before he sighed curtly. "Thank you, m'lady."

One of the cookies disappeared between her lips and a moment passed before she spoke. "My friend, please do not look so worried. The Red Queen is gone and has been in banishment for years now. Scouts have reported back that the Red Fortress is little more than a crumbling ruin."

"Why go back then?" another sip…perhaps it should have steeped for just another moment but he'd been in a hurry. Alice hadn't been seen all morning.

"What it may be now is a crumbling ruin but at one time, Salazen Grum was a thriving port city, which means that it lived on trade and received items from across the Crimson Sea." He regarded her with a frown still, toying with a finger sandwich and no doubt contemplating the odd name for the food. Alice smiled tolerantly and pulled one of the maps over. "Look, being a port town means that they had to have some knowledge of their trading partners, the Captains would have had maps drawn up so that it was not just the sun and stars they sailed by, romantic as the notion might be."

"Sailing is romantic?" he sat up straight and with a strange expression. Perhaps he'd misjudged Alice's ideas of romance. He had been a few years out of the game after all.

She breezed right by that, not willing to go into another "finger sandwich" discussion while she was on a roll. "And while the Captains would map the sea and coasts, surely they would have had someone go into the town and make a map of the city, perhaps even trade to receive a map of the entire foreign realm!" Grinning brilliantly, she turned back towards him. "Don't you see, Tarrant?"

He held the mini-sandwich up before his eyes and then put it down again, giving her an even stranger look. "Alice, of course I can see but I don't understand what that has to do with romantic oceans and a captain's sun and stars or a ship's port map."

Alice smiled but her sigh was one of exasperation. Her fingers threaded though her hair for a moment and she took a long, slow sip of tea, knowing that even as she watched him, Tarrant was trying to figure out her words and getting them muddled inside his head. Some days her thoughts struck perfectly with him and their communication was flawless…and others were like now; more struggle than simpatico. She'd have to point out the connections. "Alright, let me explain then."

"I wish you would…I think even the tea is confused." A vivid eyebrow quirked at the cup of tea, though it was prudently silent.

She arranged the map so it would be clear to them both though it wasn't exactly needed. "Salazem Grum was and still is a port city, there are docks still in good working order there, according to the scouts." He nodded and she continued. "So, if we can rebuild the city back into good working order as well, we can send ships out to begin trading once again." Another pause and nod. She avoided pandering on about the benefits of trade and the potential scenarios should Mirana not absorb Crims into her current kingdom. "The city could also have maps already made of lands across the sea." She paused, filled with excitement about the mere potential of new places. "That means new people, new things to see and do…" she capped it with a sudden thought. "…new fabrics to use, teas to sample, and cakes to taste."

It worked with absurdly positive results. Tarrant grinned broadly and his entire persona brightened, the finger sandwich debacle forgotten. "New teas! Oh this is an excellent idea, Alice! Trade across the sea, growing the kingdom, this is why you are an advisor to the Queen!"

Alice refused to be miffed that he seemed to not understand the implications until tea was brought up. Heaven forbid she ever try to explain something where tea couldn't be factored in! She nibbled on the sandwich he'd released, smiling with the simple happiness that they were on the same page at last. "We only need to hope that Iracebeth didn't make any un-mendable enemies across the waters during her reign."

The thought didn't dim Tarrant's spirits in the slightest. He refilled his tea and nibbled a bit of cheese. "Don't be silly. If they're disagreeable we'll all sit down and exchange teas and cakes and settle the matter before dinner."

When she smiled it was warm and loving. Sometimes the Hatter's logic was utterly charming…if a little naïve. She'd learned enough of politics in Overland to know that such a peaceful resolution was not always possible but this was Underland…anything was possible here with a little belief. "That sounds marvelous."

Her tone made Tarrant look at her, but she was already picking at another mini-sandwich (really, he wouldn't call them finger sandwiches until they had fingers on them otherwise it was just silly!) and not watching him. She looked happy and that made him immeasurably happy as well. "Why not simply go there straightaway? Why travel the long way?"

Soulful eyes blinked and she looked to him in surprise. "Why not? At some point I should like to see this land in full without running for my life and in my proper size." She grinned.

"A good, proper, Alice size!" he laughed.

A sip of tea and she shyly, quietly presented more motive. "I also would enjoy seeing Witzend, I think. I am told it is where you were born."

His joviality dimmed almost immediately but not into anger or depression as she'd feared. It was simply…less. A short-lived and weak smile was presented before he refilled her tea. "I believe I am missing a shirt…not that I am counting each night, mind you, but I have sought to wear it recently and noticed it missing. Where do you suppose a shirt would have run off to?"

A blush stained her cheeks becomingly but she fenced his words. "How do you know it ran? I know shirts sway, they pull, shrink, embrace and drape but I have never seen a shirt run."

His eyes narrowed as he smiled, glad of the distraction. "Oh but of course they do m'lady! You just have to be awfully fast to see them for they move quite quickly for otherwise lame objects. However I happen to know that you possess quite the keen vision and I must default to you for assistance as this particular shirt was in its proper place before the snows began falling."

"Hm…" she hummed and sipped at her tea, regarding him over the rim of the cup, noticing it made his eye color change interestingly…darker, definitely darker. "I don't recall seeing a shirt running unfortunately. Though perhaps it had an accomplice to help sneak it out of your chambers? What might help a shirt escape captivity?"

Another bit of cheese met its end between his teeth while he thought, eyes locked on his sparring partner's. "What indeed…perhaps it was a "who" instead of a "what". I seem to recall that there was an Um walking around a while back."

Alice laughed. A few weeks prior she'd mistaken a slice of upelkuchen for cake and taken a bite before realizing it. Embarrassing didn't quite cut it and she'd locked herself in a pantry until a chef politely, and quickly, retrieved a sip of pishsalver to aid her. "Ah but only briefly and she didn't get very far. Perhaps Mally?"

He blinked, his mind actually considering the possibility despite the fact that he knew exactly who had his shirt. After all, he didn't actually _see_ the shirt leave so Alice might have been innocent of the theft itself…though her blushes hinted otherwise. "But Mally hardly has the space for such a thing in her apartment. Ah…well perhaps it shall return in due time." A quiet sip of tea before he leaned forward conspiratorially, stage-whispering. "Or perhaps it is highly comfortable where it is."

She blushed becomingly, tugging at the shirt lacing. "Perhaps it is."

A broad smile. "You, m'lady, are trouble."

"It _is_ a comfortable shirt!"

Tarrant sat back and considered her with a slight tilt to his head. "Hm…it is a rather fetching color on you, my dear. The fit leaves something to be desired, however." He scooted around the makeshift table and began pulling and tucking at the shirt, grinning roguishly as his proximity made Alice blush. "Something a bit tighter perhaps?"

"Don't you dare, Tarrant Hightopp!" she batted his hands away so the material draped once more. "I happen to enjoy your fit." Her hands clapped over her mouth and she turned a vivid red as her brain processed the words fully a half-second _after_ they left her mouth.

Tarrant howled with laughter, a sheer, mad, giddy sort of laughter that released some of the noise in his mind, made it easier to think clearly. He flopped onto his back beside her, knocking the stack of books over, and grasped his middle as it began to ache.

Alice scowled at him, the blush faded slightly but still quite vivid. "It's not that funny!" He continued to laugh and the beginnings of a smile twitched on her lips, spreading insidiously until it was a full blow grin followed by soft laughter at his breathless amusement. "Come now, Hatter…" she tisked with a smile, twisting and boldly leaning to rest on his chest, holding his face in her hands. The skin was warm and flushed with happiness, his eyes the color of spring grass. Her weight and touch worked to sooth his mad laughter down to chuckles and then just a grin. "What am I going to do with you Mr. Hightopp?"

He raised a brow. "As always, I am ever at your disposal for anything, m'lady Alice."

Another pretty blush warmed her face but her smile was undimmed and her thumbs gently stroked his face. The firelight warmed his skin tones even further and tossed strange highlights into his hair, she took him in with her eyes and sighed softly. "Will you tell me about Witzend some day, Tarrant?" she asked quietly.

Again, the joviality faded and he looked away for a minute, only risking looking back when he'd made up his mind away from her subtly pleading gaze. "Perhaps. It's not a happy story, you know. At least not towards the end."

"I know." Alice leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead, stroking his cheeks one last time, and touching the cat pin on his lapel with a smile. "Come now, tell me what ideas you have for this journey. I should like to go as prepared as possible."

Tarrant's forehead burned invisibly where her lips had pressed and he felt the loss when her weight left him however he recovered and sat up, taking his position on the other side of the "table" again and refreshing their respective teas while pondering the map. A hundred things ran through his mind while looking at Witzend but he worked at grabbing the bits about the land and not his family…difficult but Alice needed him to do so and, perhaps more importantly, wanted his opinion. He pointed to a spot on the map. "There may be a place we can stop here and refresh if need be though my memory isn't quite what it was you know…"

xxx

Despite her excitement about her plans and a good relationship with the Court, it was taking all her nerve to present them to Mirana. Of course, she'd already spelled out the general gist of it but the Queen, as kind as she was, was no fool and required the full details of Alice's plans. Since Mirana was sponsoring this trip, all that Alice did would be under the banner of Marmoreal and so the Queen needed to ensure that her realm was well-represented and not headed for another war. For just over a year now, Alice had put off the discussion yet the time was here at last. If she wanted to leave on time, she needed the approval within the next few days so that the preparation was done in full.

Since her round with Tarrant, she'd been practicing with the Hatter a couple of evenings a week, their sessions light with jibes and riddles while learning off one another. She was no longer fearing the claymore's reach and was getting very bold in her assaults, which he approved of if his grins were anything to go by. Over the clash of steel, he offered encouragement, saying that her fears of the Queen's disapproval were absurd. The Lady was incredibly welcoming and if she had doubts, she would be willing to listen.

She only prayed he was right.

"For heaven's sake come in already Alice!"

Alice nearly leapt out of her skin, not having noticed that Mirana had pulled open the doors of her office and watched her pace. "Oh! Y-Yes, sorry about that. My mind was elsewhere."

"Surely. The doorknobs say you didn't even hear them offer approval to enter!"

A blush. "No, I didn't."

She followed in, relaxing only slightly since Mirana was smiling. A servant quickly poured tea for them and vacated the room, closing the doors as he left. The Queen took a seat at the small table set out for the visit and indicated the opposite chair, where Alice quickly sat. "Now, you were pacing out there for quite some time without a word…I can only assume that you've finalized all your plans?"

"Indeed I have." she shuffled anxiously, sipping tea to buy time.

Mirana smiled at her company. "No need to be nervous, Alice! Come, tell me what marvelous idea you have come up with now!"

No time like the present. Alice sighed softly and spoke in a rush. "I want to travel to Salazem Grum and rebuild it back into a brilliant port town to trade across the Crimson Sea!" With her pause, she immediately sipped more tea.

"My sister's fortress?" Mirana clarified, receiving a nod in return. "Well…" A nerve-wracking pause. "That certainly was not entirely expected. I remember you wished to travel north but…you wish to rebuild the fortress?"

Alice sat up, reinvigorated and feeling much like her father when he had to present an "impossible" idea. "Perhaps not back into a fortress per say, but certainly I would think the city should be restored. A mere declaration is all it would take, send scouts out with the news that Salasem Grum is being rebuilt as a trade city. The news, especially coming from the scouts of Marmoreal, would bring hope to those who have not yet learned that your sister is no longer in power; they will flock with their own dreams and skills and the city could thrive once more!"

Mirana felt a twinge at the mere passing mention of her sister but set it aside. Iracebeth fully deserved the appointed punishment, as much as it had ached to banish her own blood. "Trading with Crims again would be wonderful. But I sense that is not your sole purpose there."

"Truly, that is the main reason…though my studies have proven that Salazen Grum was once a port trade city…they engaged in trade with places beyond the Crimson Sea! Can you imagine meeting new people and exploring yet another new place not to mention the various wealth it could bring to your realms!" When Mirana's dark eyes flashed at her, Alice quickly amended her statement. "That is, of course, should you decide to take Crims as your own."

The debate over that matter was bitter and ongoing, Mirana severely torn between her advisors and the cold ache of guilt. She had already taken all fame, prestige, wealth, and freedom from her sister, did she dare to take the lands that had been given to her by their parents? She was no closer to an answer now than she had been on Frabjous Day.

Silence settled for a few minutes, broken only by the polite white noise of two women having tea. With a small sigh, touched with regret, Mirana smiled at her friend. "It sounds like quite the venture, Alice. Aerial scouts say the fortress crumbles yet the interior of Salazen Grum is still unknown, are you certain you will not take additional guards?" She cocked her head as another thought struck. "And how long do you plan to be away on this journey? Rebuilding will take some time…"

Elated that her idea hadn't been declined, Alice beamed. "Oh I don't plan on staying, not at first at least! This trip is just to get the lay of the land, get an idea of the work needed, and see the west side of Underland."

"Witzend, yes." Mirana smiled, lips spreading into a wicked grin when Alice blushed. "Did you think I would miss that the majority of your trip has you exploring there?"

Feeling like she might be closing in on a scarlet color, Alice closed her eyes and sighed through a rueful smile. "I had hoped that little detail wouldn't draw suspicion in light of the main goal, yes."

Mirana laughed, such a light and carefree sound that any who heard it felt their spirits lift. Alice's blush eased and she tucked some stubborn strands of blonde hair behind an ear, embarrassed but glad Mirana didn't seem upset by the ulterior motive. "I cannot help my curiosity, m'lady…and I am grateful you do not seem to be rejecting it either."

Her friend grinned and took one of Alice's hands within her own. "I certainly would not deny you your answers, Alice. You chose to stay with us, to learn and live and for that and the hope your staying has brought the people, I am eternally grateful! Have you drawn up lists of provisions yet?"

The pair dawdled until a little past lunch, worrying over the details.

xxx

Winter, he recalled, was his favorite season to hat people. Partially because there was so much business during the season but also because people wished to look festive and that meant he had infinitely more freedom in his designs. That day, however, he was not hatting. He had locked up his workshop and left it to a rather flustered page to handle any incoming orders or new requests. It wasn't for a lack of temperament or creativity or desire...it was more that somehow Mallymkun had been wrangled into babysitting the entire heard of Bayard's pups as well as the Tweedles. How his darling friend ever imagined that she was large enough for these tasks, he wasn't certain but he knew she had much more...well, muchness really. More than people credited her for.

She hopped back and forth from his left and right sides, perching on his knees to monitor the play in the snow or dashing up to his hat to shout ferociously at them when they were getting out of line. Mally did have quite the voice...for a great while it had been one of the few to drag him out of insanity and for her dedication, he would be eternally grateful.

"...be gone long on this trip?"

He startled and blinked, looking at the tail tip twitching at the brim of his hat. "Oh, I am sorry Mally...I seem to have drifted off for a moment there. What did you say?"

The tail disappeared and Mally's head popped over the brim, black eyes regarding him with exasperation. "I asked how long you plan to be gone on this little trip everyone's talking about. Alice's tour."

Grudging friends as they were, Mally and Alice had never fully walked an even line when it came to Tarrant...it was more that they faced off to either side of a line. He sighed at her tone and lifted a brow at her. "Really, Mally. No need to be snippy about it." His expression changed. "Snip...need to get those scissors resharpened, leather has done awful things for them this season..."

Mally smiled and reached down, tapping Tarrant's nose to get him back on track. "Should I go with you?"

"Don't be silly." he chuckled. "Already one of me and two of the knights...goodness Mally, we'll leave the castle defenseless if you came along!"

She took his words as the compliment they were meant to be...anyone else and she'd have started clawing. "If you're sure. You said it yourself, it's a dangerous place still!" Her ears twitched at the sound of a yelp and she flipped upright. "_Bennard stop burying your sister!!_"

Hatter watched in mild amazement as the sibling pups immediately broke off their fight and resumed normal play, bouncing off the Tweedles and helping to build a large snow-Tweedle. The boys were residents of the palace during winter, at Mirana's insistence. She had taken to them almost as though they were her own and they to her, though they still lived in their treehouse within the woods when the weather was not treacherous. "Come now, you know there is nothing out there more dangerous than me, Mally. I'm sure even the knights will take precautions." He laughed.

Her dark eyes narrowed at him and she flipped over to hang off the hat brim so she might look at him properly. One of her feet snapped out and kicked the tip of his nose. "Hatter! You stop that right now, you hear?!"

Green eyes blinked and Tarrant's expression looked thoroughly chastised and a touch sad. He held up a hand so Mally could stand instead of hang. "You have no hat today. Shall I make you one?"

"No." She glared at him. "We'll be inside after they've run themselves out so it's no concern. And then I'll need to find Alice."

"Oh?" he glanced out at the field, seeing one Tweedle standing atop the other (Dum over Dee he believed) to add the snowball head to the snow-Tweedle. "Do you want to spar with her as well? She may be agreeable if some pishsalver can be found as I'm afraid right now the odds are horribly in your favor, my friend."

It made her smile at last, such a blatant falsehood. "I'm going to stuff one of her ears shut to make sure nothing escapes and then give her specific instructions about how to rebuke you when you get like this!"

Tarrant blinked, then scowled, then giggled, then frowned...his mind unsure of what to make of that information; affectionate yet malignant all the same. His mouth open and closed a few times but the words wouldn't arrange themselves to let him speak and he found he didn't know how to respond in the first place. "Mally...?"

She smiled and shook her head at him, hugging his bandaged thumb. "As long as you always come back, Hatter."

His brow remained a study in confusion and he remained locked in his pose, sitting on the steps, even after Mally left his hand to go bark instructions at her charges. In fact, it was the same pose that Alice found him in when she came looking for him fifteen minutes later and her head cocked to the side as she tried to figure it out. "Life imitating Art?"

"Hm? Oh, Alice!" he jolted back to reality, scrambling to his feet.

Brown eyes regarded him with only mild worry. "Mally said you were out here thinking but that was a while back. I just didn't want you to catch cold."

Tarrant noticed the scarf in her hands and smiled sheepishly. "Ah, a valid concern I suppose. Though I haven't been sick in years. Well..." he frowned thoughtfully. "...not that I can recall anyway."

Cold was certainly the last thing he could have felt when Alice merely smiled and leaned up to wrap the scarf around his neck. His body unconsciously leaned towards her own though her task was completed too soon and she drew back before the motion was fulfilled. Alice's smile remained constant and warm, seemingly unmindful that he was staring. He realized it just a moment too late when Alice blushed and looked away, though she was speaking before he could offer an apology. "Let's head inside, yes? It's only been a week since the Queen's approval and already I think I will tear my hair out from having to get all these provisions set up!"

He fell into setup and offered his own smile, raising a hand to indicate his untamed mane. "You could always tear mine out, it would be a shame to lose yours."

Another blush but his boldness earned him a shy, sweet smile and a squeeze of his hand in her own.


	3. Chapter 3

_Some quick notes:_

_Galen and Hart are mine, please ask if you'd like to use them._

_Lowell makes me giggle. Proper inspirational credit goes to AkaiNagi who made "Lady Ascot" ^^_

xxx

Hart was tall.

Taller than most men and although others of his stature were ungainly and awkward, he had not suffered years of trials to stomp around as a mindless git. His long legs ate up the ground with a smooth stride, his back was straight though not rigid, and his arms swung in a relaxed, casual manner befitting those of average stature. His dark locks hung down to brush at his scrub-bristled jaw while his eyes took in his surroundings with hawk-like precision and snap. When he spoke, a feat of growing frequency to the relief of his fellows, his voice was oddly soft and almost uncertain...a stark contrast to the rest of him.

At present, the man's long body was at standing rest before Nivens, the rabbit's head stretched up so he might speak towards Hart's face instead of his calves. The pink nose twitched in habitual anxiety as Nivens strained to make his voice carry the entire seven feet and three and a half inches (the man was strangely particular about that half inch) but he managed with all the grace his courtly status demanded. "It has been decided, good knight, that you shall leave with the first thaw. Be prepared when the time arrives!"

Broad shoulders shrugged. "I'll be ready whenever the bugger decides to be ready." At the look of outrage on Nivens' face, he raised his hands and amended himself quickly. "Time, that is! Not the Champion."

A sniff. "Good. Her majesty has exceptionally high standards of both her knights on this journey and should harm come to Alice, the penalty will be severe!"

Hart made a face. He would already be traveling with the Mad Hatter, was that not punishment enough? "No harm will come to the Champion under my watch, Lord Nivens. I have yet to fail the Queen's demands...is there another reason for this rhetoric?" Dark eyes narrowed slightly.

The white rabbit was not intimidated. Hart was one of the many Red Knights that had integrated into the White Knights with the passing of Iracebeth's reign and he had proven himself time and time again to be nothing but loyal. Still, on occasion there would be a brief session of shouting, crying that the knights were disloyal dissenters and would just as soon kill Mirana in her sleep. Many brushed the ramblings aside as they were generally started by the Dodo, who was legendarily still bitter about being made into a lowly caddy during his capture, yet the Knights knew that they were still looked on with touches of suspicion. Nivens sighed...finding that his role of both Lord and messenger was a bit taxing at times. "The Queen has also proclaimed that no harm shall come to the Hatter," the knight's face blanched in surprise. "At least as can be avoided. No matter his mind, you must mind him as much as Alice."

Hart sputtered on that, face going from white to red. "I am a knight, you fool, not some mindless barbarian of club and pelt!"

Long ears bobbed as Nivens nodded. "Yes, yes, I know. Trust that Sir Galen is receiving the same warnings, there is no imbalance of trust between you two."

It did sooth his outrage...a little. Enough that his voice calmed and his face cooled. His long body folded on itself as he knelt down to the rabbit's level, graciously giving the creature's neck a break. "I am sorry, that was rude of me. I will mind them both as ordered." He glanced down the hall behind Nivens, spying the aforementioned White Knight. "Ah, and there is your secondary quarry now."

Galen was making his way towards them, a picturesque vision of a White Knight. A brilliant grin showcased white teeth that seemed to sparkle almost as much as his vivid blue eyes. The squared off jaw was clean shaven and to frame his face he had waves of blonde hair, gathered back into a tail at the base of his skull where it trailed to the base of his neck. His body was more thickly built than his counterpart and filled out the clothes of a noble with lines of strength. His walk was confident, cocky...and the bold, brave, brash Knight was no taller than Alice herself. Hart sniggered behind a hand, disguising it as a cough.

"Nibblets, there you are! Have you seen Lady Bolet recently?"

Nivens' fur bristled. "Nivens, Nivens, you fool! My name is Ni-vens!"

Something else that worked against the knight...he could hardly keep names straight in his head and tended to garble them without thought or apology. The only exception was Mirana...and then only because he never addressed her as anything other than "m'lady", "my Queen", and other such variations. True to form, Galen merely laughed at Nivens' anger as though it were all a joke, glancing to Hart. "Hello Harry! Chatting up the rabbit are you?"

"Harry" coughed once more into his fist and rose to his feet, towering over them both. "Hello Galen. Sharp as ever, I see."

"Actually it's velvet. Quite smooth, you know." He stroked his hands down the dressy velvet surcoat.

Hart bit his tongue, giving a bow to Nivens. "I'll leave you to it, Lord Nibblets."

He was grateful for his long legs as he made his escape, certain that if the rabbit was any madder, steam would have shot from both ears like a ready teapot.

xxx

Alice waved, perhaps with more vigor than was appropriate, as she bid the good Sir Galen goodbye, who claimed a sudden need to find Lord Nailbed...she could only guess he meant poor Nivens. His departure left the stables almost perfectly silent and she closed her eyes, taking a few minutes to enjoy it. The man had noble intentions and a genial way but if she had to correct her name one more time, she was going to scrawl it on his tongue in the hopes that it might stick! She cracked an eye open to peek only to open both when satisfied that the knight wasn't just as suddenly returning. "At least I won't be the only chatty one on this trip!" she exclaimed to the air, getting amused nickers in response.

Smiling freely, she strolled by the stalls, each different and all unlike those she knew in Overland. These horses were not the mute variety, not content with hay and blankets. At least two of these horses were Lords and held large stalls decked out with decorative tack (some so bejeweled she knew it _had_ to be ceremonial, really!), sliding windows, plush resting couches, and almost buffet-style troughs laden with everything from tarts to hay and wine to water. Once or twice she'd caught herself thinking it wouldn't be quite so bad to be a horse in Marmoreal...and then she remembered that despite the plush conditions, the majority of the horses were of the working class and they bore knights as well as pulled plows...work that she couldn't imagine performing. She was careful to keep that thought under her hat, so to speak, lest someone present a tasty bite that changed her into a horse!

Her lazy walk brought her steadily down the row until she came to a few stalls that were made empty...very much so on purpose as of about three years prior. No horse worth his hooves would house himself in that area as it had become the sole realm of the frumious bandersnatch! Colts and foals had made a game out of seeing who could get closer to the beast's cage, a contest of bravery as it was rumored the creature would not hesitate to eat one of them in the right mood. A smile spread across Alice's lips as she heard the beast before coming within sight of him, the great wet nose whuffed and sniffed at her approach. He was on his feet and the heavy tail thumped loudly on the ground as she came into view.

Alice couldn't have stopped her grin to save her life. "Hello Lowell, old boy. Feel up to a run today?"

A thick tongue lolled out and licked at her hand when she reached to scratch his head. She grimaced but smiled wryly. "It must be love, even bandersnatch slobber doesn't deter me!" The licked hand proceeded on its course, scratching between the rotating ears.

He growled and grumphed warmly, bright eyes nearly begging to be freed. The heavy tail whumped against the ground all the harder as Alice pulled the key from around her neck. Only two of the key existed in all the land and Lowell knew Alice's key very well. Alice undid the lock to his cage, pulling the heavy barred door open with a few grunts for the effort. With a whuff, the bandersnatch bounded from the cage, spinning in a fast circle before stopping with ears forward and his nose towards the exit, glancing back at Alice as if to ask what was taking so long!

For her part, Alice took her time, hopping over the long tail as it swept the ground on her path to Lowell. The beast's name gave her a tiny giggle each time she had cause to use it. She'd thought of calling him Hammish, and then perhaps Ascot after the entire insufferably stuffy family, and had also received some rather interesting suggestions from the castle staff (the stable-hands were especially vocal in their choices). Yet all paled before the thought of Lowell and his houndish ways...ways she was bittersweetly glad to have only glimpsed before descending into the madness of Underland, where everything made sense. Usually.

She was sure to take a minute to pet and scratch the beast, the actions meant to calm him and perhaps herself as well. To her surprise, she felt guilt at her purpose that day...Alice was not there simply for the thrill of a ride, as she normally was. That day she'd come to take Lowell out for a vigorous run that would hopefully wear him down before she had to, under orders, bring him to the leatherworkers to be fitted for tack. He licked her hands as they crossed his jowls and Alice rubbed along his snout and between his gray eyes; swearing that he would purr if he could.

"Alright, alright, enough of that. Let's run the whole of Marmoreal before the sun is high, yes?" He dropped a shoulder and she climbed up, taking her place upon the thick back and holding two handfuls of pelt. "I'm afraid that is what it's going to take to exhaust you enough for the fitting..." She sighed yet grinned, crouching close to his back and nudging sharply with her heels.

Lowell bayed and leapt into the snow-draped landscape with gusto; powerful forearms hauling them through even the densest drifts and long tail kicking up a spray of snow with each kick. His roar could be heard for miles and upon his back, Alice forgot her to-do's and abandoned social constraints, howling into the wind with him.

xxx

"Hatter?"

Mirana gently touched Tarrant on the shoulder, unnerved by his silence. Many times since Alice had graciously accepted Tarrant's service as a guard had the Hatter come to Mirana with concerns, only to start and stop and lapse into silence before giving up and leaving with muttered apologies. This time he had stayed, at her firm insistence, and had fallen into silence once more, sitting hunched over in a chair with elbows on knees; his hat being occasionally worried in his hands. She had given him a few minutes but the silence was stretching, making her nervous.

It was not her touch, but rather the distinct roar of the bandersnatch that roused the milliner from his repose. Tarrant twitched and sat up, looking about in mild alarm as he realized he'd been vacant recently. "Oh! F-Forgive me, m'lady..."

Mirana smiled and gracefully took her seat across from him. "All is well. You wished to speak with me on a matter of great importance?"

He nodded but his lips were pressed into a tight line and he wished strongly for a cup of tea to sooth his nerves. Someone had declined tea service though...him? Her? His mind couldn't turn back round that corner with so much in the way before him. "The thaw is almost upon us and the journey will begin. Alice will ride out and towards greater glory...and I will join whither she may go. Yet..." He clenched the brim of his hat. "...she wishes to explore Witzend...and Iplam...and while I would deny her nothing, she wants the story of Iplam...of the Horunvendush Day." At last, he looked straight at her. "She asks for the story of my family, of my friends...I am not sure I....I can speak of it without...losing myself."

The Queen's expression twisted between concern and pain. It had been the Hatter that was her true Champion that day, the one out of the many to rush to her aid and bring her to safety. She had always harbored doubts about it, though...if the Hatter had saved himself, would he have been able to reach his family in time to warn them? Tarrant's father had retired from the court and back to the clan-stead just two years before and from all accounts, the elder Hightopp was living his final years in peace. Mirana had been sure to keep in touch with him as he had been a confidant of hers until the day he returned home. Since and from what she could tell, his son harbored no ill will towards her for the losses but guilt gnawed restlessly. That day, Thackery had gone straight to mad from the carnage at the forest clearing and would never find his way back. Tarrant, however, had been walking a steady line for a few years prior only to be pushed off to one side and left to forever struggle to find the balance he'd maintained before. Though for a while immediately following that day, he had not even bothered with the struggle. Several minutes of heavy silence filled the room while she worked on an answer. "Tarrant...if you cannot feel safe speaking of it, why not talk her out of it? Out of knowing?"

Green eyes blinked and his brow furrowed in consternation. "Talk her out of knowing? T'would be the same as talking her out of breathing! She has questions, so many questions, hundreds, thousands of questions and how could I talk her out of it when I didn't talk her into it nor around it, perhaps on top or along the side of it and knowing, knowing so much she wants to know about it and me and it an--!"

Another bandersnatch roar reached them, this one further away. Mirana marveled at the power of the cry as it cut Tarrant's rambling almost acutely short. Fascinating, the sway that things even merely associated with Alice had over the man! She felt a moment of fear at the realization, though. What if Alice ever left? Or died? With her so deeply intertwined with the Hatter's sanity, who could possibly fill those gaps? Her eyes closed for a moment...hoping she would never have to find the answers to those questions.

Tarrant took a minute for himself, breathing deeply and clenching something that had been hidden in his vest pocket. It remained hidden as he took a final, slow breath and stood, feeling absolutely no better for having voiced his concerns. "I fear I will have to find out when the time comes and perhaps pray that Alice will forgive my...forgetfulness."

He certainly looked no better and Mirana's gut clenched, forcing her to rise as he turned to leave. "Tarrant!"

Hat upon his head, he turned to look at her over a shoulder, green eye somewhat unfocused and not looking directly _at_ her. Memory was with him then, torturing and teasing him, and no kind words could stop her. Mirana hesitated, the healer in her crying out for her to DO something yet the logical part of her knowing there was no cure for this malady. The milliner's trade only made it easier for Memory to slip in and torment the man. The Queen was reminded bittersweetly of Tarrant's father in that moment yet for the elder Hightopp there had been no sadness, only insanity. So she did the only thing left to do.

She hugged him.

At first, Tarrant was rigid at the embrace, few beyond Alice dared to touch him anymore and he was unaccustomed to the feeling. Slowly, he relaxed, trying to understand what Mirana was doing and coming up empty...like the vial she knew her purpose but did not speak it. Not for a few quite minutes during which he hesitantly returned the embrace. His mind played a game while waiting, batting the comparisons back and forth between Vial and Queen, and he endeavored to focus when she released him and stood back a half-pace. She was sad, he could see that; she tended that way to all suffering and for a few moments, Tarrant felt privileged to be in the realm of her concerns. "M'Lady?" he inquired.

All this talk and reminiscence of family clawed at her heart and Mirana sorely wished to be alone. She needed time to box the feelings away again. Despite the swell of emotions, she spoke calmly and compassionately to the man before her. "Tarrant...I have no cure for what ails you. However should you need it, I can be a friend to you, as I was to your father."

Oh how his father had pandered on about the benevolent Queen Mirana, Jewel of the South! The entire Hightopp clan, were they not already employed at various positions in court, would have fallen in love with her purely by description with the way he'd gone on! For his part, Barret Hightopp was indeed rumored to have harbored feelings for the good Queen yet none ever saw him act upon them and there was never any proof...the man would merely smile and ask an opinion about weaving threads from the clouds. Tarrant had grown up knowing of Queen Mirana and her rise, and when he was presented before her as an apprentice to his father, he could have admitted to having the same infatuation as his father was rumored to hold, she was such a vision to his eyes. In the present, having met the potential sister-in-law, Tarrant was ridiculously glad that things had not worked out. He giggled.

It was a sound Mirana took as a good sign; laughter was a Hightopp coping mechanism so her words had been absorbed and not ignored. She waited while the giggles died off and was ready when he spoke, at first towards the floor while he bowed. "M'lady I appreciate the offer, it is most kind." He stood upright once more and set his hat on his head at a slightly jaunty angle, smiling. "I would be very glad to accept. Unfortunately I must take my leave now, I believe Alice will be returning soon."

"Ah yes...she is having the bandersnatch fitted with tack, if you wish to join her."

"Oh? Won that argument, did you?" he laughed. "I think I will go off to see the show then!"

She bid him farewell and closed the doors behind him. When she turned back to the now silent room, she closed her eyes and sighed, leaning back on the portals. In her heart, she prayed that Barret's death had been quick.

xxx

They hadn't quite covered all of Marmoreal.

Not for a lack of trying. Lowell had whuffed and bayed and pulled himself through all of Alice's demands and performed commendably. However there was still quite a bit of excitement to his motions as they turned back towards the castle and Alice knew she'd have to be fairly vigilant still while the leatherworkers moved around him. The sun was getting high and glaring off the snow, making her wish for, of all things, a hat. There was no choice but to laugh at the thought and Lowell reacted to her laughter with a harder run, approaching the castle bounds at a racing speed. So it was that when he came over the last drift before the open fields, his sudden, sliding stop nearly launched Alice over his shoulders.

"Lowell! What on...oh." Alice lifted her head to see the reason for the bandersnatch's abrupt halt. Knight Hart was in their path, looking quite surprised himself. The great white panther he rode had its back up, thick tail fluffed and twitching while its yellow eyes glared at Lowell. Lowell responded with a savage, drooling snarl and were it not for Alice's hard pull on the fur of his thick neck, he would have charged. _More dog than bear, I suppose...though I don't know. Would a bear chase a panther?_

Hart's greeting destroyed her wandering thought path and brought her back to the moment. "Afternoon, Champion Alice. An afternoon ride to ready the beast for travel?"

_Both knights in one day...Alice you have all the luck._ Alice smiled briefly. "Just to tire him out. The Queen demands that he be fitted with tack so I will have better control of him over the course of the tour."

"He seems complacent." He nodded with a touch of a smile. "I'd say you know how to handle your men just fine, m'lady."

Lowell's eyes rolled up to the tall knight's face and he put on the most fierce snarling expression he could manage...the effected ruined when his tongue snaked out to lick at his nose. Alice stroked the pale fur affectionately. "Aside from our first meeting, he has never been anything but a joy for me. I could say less for some."

The implication and names were left hanging in the unknown and Hart decided it wasn't wise to try and pick and choose. He held an arm out towards the palace, having noticed that the watch had spotted them. "Might I escort you back?"

She resisted rolling her eyes by the thinnest skin of her teeth and managed a tight smile. "I would be glad of it, Sir Hart."

xxx

Hatter was late to the fitting, having been distracted by the Tweedles. They were playing "Who has the Button" and Tarrant became mightily worried that they might have pillaged his stores. Fortunately, he was proven wrong and had escaped, knowing he was late and anticipating flying tea cups only by habit. His legs carried him quickly, nostrils flaring as he passed the shops of tanners, reminding him that despite an occasional need for leather he was glad to work with fabric over skin. When he arrived at the shop, he stopped sharply in the doorway, his eyes narrowing slightly. Within the shop was indeed the bandersnatch, the beast's breath and overall smell far improved since he ceased eating the corpses of the beheaded, and beside him was a slightly grumpy badger. The striped creature was muttering to himself and taking measures, flinching back with scowls when the bandersnatch would twitch or move his great head towards him.

However at the opposite side of the room was Alice...that in itself would have caused his mood to soar but for the fact that this Alice had three men around her. One was the Sir Hart, who would travel with them on her journey, and the other two were the apprentices of the badger...each a strapping youth bearing charming smiles and flattery by the pound. It didn't quite matter to him at that point if all three were flirting with her or if it was just one...they were all not wanted. Clearly. Couldn't they see the tension in her smile? The sound of her laughter was forced and fake instead of full and light. Her eyes watched them attentively but were dull...couldn't they see that they bored her?!

Tarrant's weight shifted to start walking, his mouth loosened to speak, when suddenly she locked eyes with him. The immediate change was gratifying in the extreme and eased the ire from the milliner. Her eyes grew vibrant and her smile was relaxed and genuine. "Tarrant!"

When the Hatter smiled and began walking, Alice knew he'd been ready to do so in a fit of outrage not a moment before. The odd walk he had proved to her that a layer of anger was being stripped from him...something that most people missed. No matter. She wasn't about to rebuke him when he presented the ideal opportunity for salvation! Hart was not as wordy or mistaken as Galen however his height and the sharpness of his gaze reminded her far too much of Stayn and it was something she'd sooner forget. Then the Master Leatherworker had grown irate with his assistants dropping tools on their own feet while watching Alice instead of the work, and had snapped at them both. They'd jumped on the opportunity to both escape duty and chat up the Champion! Physically there was nothing wrong with them, they appeared to be much like the young men of far-off London, however they were dull as mud bricks.

The Hatter's grin flirted with the border of improper as Alice extended her hand out to him, effectively leaving the other men with no recourse but to let him among them. He took her hand and almost kissed the fair knuckles, at the last dipping into a small bow instead. "Good afternoon, m'lady. The Queen tells me the bandersnatch is due for a fitting."

"At her insistence, yes." Alice wished he would have kissed her hand. At the very least the apprentices would have had cause to back off with that gesture. She looked to Lowell, who had been watching her fanclub with narrowed gray eyes. He was being exceptionally well-behaved though she knew she owed him for this, she could practically hear him saying it. "I will have to reward such restraint."

"Ah, there's a 'unt goin' out two days from now, m'lady. I could certainly bring back something to feed his appetite!" apprentice one offered eagerly.

"Oy! _ I'll_ bring back a big kill for th' beast's belly!" apprentice two boasted.

The pair bickered and boasted for a full minute before two small rocks flew threw the air and one of each clocked them on the head. A blast of snarled Outlandish exploded from the badger and the apprentices realized their fun time was up, sprinting back to attend to their duties. Alice sighed gratefully, getting a quirked brow from the Hatter. "What did he say?"

Tarrant blinked and stammered for a moment, offering a small smile. "Erm...he was quite _explicit_ about them getting back to work."

Her grin became very nearly Cheshire and she leaned towards him, speaking a string of broken Outlandish in a whisper. The Hatter gawked, to Alice's great pleasure, as the words were not fit for such a young woman! Falsely innocent brown eyes blinked at him. "I have been studying you know!" She giggled and strolled over to Lowell, interrupting the work for a moment to scratch the beast's ears.

"Bayard..." he muttered with a smile. He glanced over to Hart...noticing that the Knight seemed a bit uncomfortable in his lone presence which, for the Hatter, meant that the Knight was abnormally uncomfortable. He looked over at Hart, curious when the sharp eyes met his own but didn't seem inclined to stay there. A smirk teased at his lips and he narrowed his eyes, leaning towards the Knight. "Boo!"

Hart didn't jump but he still looked highly ill at ease. He cleared his throat and nodded to Tarrant. "Please call if the Champion has need of me...I must get back."

"Oh aye..." Hatter grinned, intending no such thing but enjoying the way the knight took a wide berth around him as he left. Interesting...

"Making friends?"

Tarrant chuckled and turned back towards Alice, who had rejoined him and taken a seat upon a bench to watch the fitting. "Friends? He didn't seem terribly inclined to have tea let alone stay and chat." He sat beside Alice on the bench, interrupted when she took his hat directly from his head. Yellow touched his eyes, faintly. "Yu'll be playing with fire, lass...takin' a Scot's hat in winter."

She grinned and placed the hat on her head. "I was out riding earlier and thinking to myself how much I could have used a hat and what a shame it was that one was not on hand."

Her eyes sparkled with mischief and challenge and Tarrant's jaw clenched along with his gut. The Champion...with his hat...he was torn between euphoria and, embarrassingly enough, arousal. They mixed potently and he laughed to try and ease the giddy knots in his stomach, with limited success. Her tease was perfect and due to send him straight off the edge as he tried to decide which he wanted more in the scene presented to him. His hands reached out, for once free of bandages except for a small one on his left index finger, and he gently brushed the blonde hair behind her ears, adjusting the hat to best fit.

Alice twitched as his soft touch tickled past the shell of her ear, her face turning automatically and lips brushing his bare palm. She blushed at the warm sensation, glancing up shyly to see Tarrant watching her with an expression she had never seen before, not from him. "Tarrant?" she asked softly, her breath caressing his palm with his name.

Tarrant shivered, wondering if this new silence in his head was more frightening than all the noise combined. "Alice...I..."

Lowell's tail suddenly snapped out and knocked apprentice two through the wooden wall of the shop, starting a storm of chaos as apprentice one tried to retrieve his fellow and the badger tried to grab the lashing tail. Alice looked to the scene in shock and turned back to the Hatter, a new expression of her own there for him to try and read. "I...oh hell I'm sorry!"

Impulsively, she kissed his cheek and jammed the hat onto his head before running over to the bandersnatch. "_Lowell!_ Lowell stop that right now!"


	4. Chapter 4

_EDIT: Okee, expanded on the lunch bit 'cause it annoyed me as it was. Also tagged on a proper ending to green-light the voyage! (4/21/10)_

_Some quick notes: I hate putting these in but sometimes it's a necessary evil. For any of you curious to see what the heck I have visualized for the world of Underland, please visit the following (remove the spaces). _

Http:// i935. photo bucket. Com/ albums/ ad194/ Hosted84/ UnderworldMap. jpg

_It is a map I've been tinkering with for a few weeks and, as said, one of the original inspirations for this. If you have the 1st draft of the script, you'll note it looks similar to the map included therein and you would be correct. I have used it and modified it because to me it looked so incredibly dull yet full of potential. For now, the map isn't quite so important but there are a couple of names here that probably won't make sense without a visual. It's all hand-drawn btw (and unfinished) so as usual, all mistakes are mine._

_Alright, enough from me. On with ye!_

xxx

It was a known fact that the arrival of spring was Mirana's least favorite day. Alice had once explained the slow transitions between seasons in Overland and the Queen had momentarily longed for that world. A slow thaw with the gradual waning of the snow as spring gently peeked through with shy buds and waxy young leaves was preferable to the scene presented now. Underland's transitions between seasons were sharp and precise and this year Summer seemed content to wait it out. Spring was happily arrived and along with it, the thaw; the sun bright and out earlier than ever to see to the melting of snow. Alice had said they would pack light for winter conditions anyway but Mirana could remember only one time that winter had raged after Spring arrived and she preferred to not remember it if she could avoid it. By the time afternoon rolled around, the majority of snow was gone and Mirana was left to view a brown, half-dead wet landscape; the only consolation came from the beloved cherry trees of the inner courtyard. They were ever-blooming. Time had never touched them.

The thaw, while it excited the children eager to play their outdoor games, was a dangerous time and Alice had pushed their departure back a day because of it. With the snow melting, the Bijel Rush was swollen with water and the only way across would be to travel up and through Queast and then West over the Yadder Stone Bridge and into Crims. Not only would that have defeated all of her plans but Alice was told that the bridge was named for a strange phenomenon. For a denizen of Underland to describe it as strange, Alice had taken acute interest in the story. Looking at the bridge, it seemed utterly normal, spanning the flooded Bijel Rush without trouble. The water flowed high but did not overtake the stones. Yet once you set foot upon the bridge, the entire length elongated to span the Rush three times over though that was the least of the oddities. Walking East made time slow, each step seeming to take hours. Walking West made time fly and within seconds you would be across the bridge. Rumor said that the people of Queast had built the bridge as a defense against Crims...it being the only way to cross Bijel Rush since the water was too broad and moved too quickly to ford. The only other way involved traveling South through the wood and crossing at the slower twisting bends between Marmoreal and Queast...risking war with two lands instead of one.

Spyglass raised to her eye, Mirana saw the Rush had mostly overtaken the Bridge of Passing. The small bridge was just wide enough for two trade carts and was made of ancient wood, of the sort not seen in Underland any longer. Yet no matter the swelling, shrinking, or seasonal beatings, the wood did not rot or warp. It had been there since her grandmother's time at least and perhaps longer, too stubborn to give in to Nature's wrath. "Hopefully the floods will be low enough tomorrow."

"The Oraculum doesn't mention anything about the floods..." Nivens sighed, already anxious beyond his normal thresholds regarding the next day. "Nor does it mention anything about the travels to come...at least nothing that pertains to Alice."

"Perhaps we should take that as a good sign." Mirana placed the glass back in its swiveling cradle.

Nivens rolled the parchment closed again. "Or it means there is more or worse readying to happen."

She dismissed the concern airily. "Don't be so doom and gloom, Nivens! Spring has arrived and our Champion will be riding out to do good in the name of Marmoreal. She rides with our standard and with two of the finest we have to offer."

"And the Mad Hatter." he added, his tone not telling if that was a good or bad fact. "He is working with more mercury today...kept muttering about preparing felts to keep the other fabrics in line while he was away. Does his workshop lock?"

"I will have one of the knobs bite down to create a key before he leaves, then he can carry it with him and know that his shop is safe. It will keep his mind where it needs to be." Mirana's expression fell as she lingered on thoughts of mercury. "We should get him out of his shop today, though. I don't want him to work through the night."

Nivens spoke as he looked down on the castle, spying Galen running after the Lady Bolet, who was playing coy and ignoring him. "I'll retrieve him..."

"Oh no, Nivens." Mirana smiled, far too innocently.

Nivens' tail twitched. He knew that smile. "I'll send Bill, then." She waited, watching him with that same too-sweet smile and at last he crumbled. "Oh fine, Alice it is!" He hopped down from the balustrade and handed the Oraculum to her. "This is by far the strangest of your meddlings, m'lady..." he mumbled while turning to do as requested.

Mirana merely unrolled the Oraculum back to the Frabjous Day and the image of Alice ready to slay the Jabberwocky. "Ah, Nivens...some questions need a little help to answer; and she wants to know why she did not return."

xxx

"Easy...oh, don't look at me like that."

Lowell sighed gustily and Alice moved around him with patience, scratching his ears, shoulders, and neck as she moved. The leather working Master had left just a few minutes prior, having dressed Lowell in the harness and tack created especially for the bandersnatch. He whined, ears drooping and posture slumping. Alice sighed, rolled her eyes out of sight, and loosened the girth strap somewhat. "I don't want this stuff anymore than you, you know." she muttered, tugging on a heavy ring that joined three straps near his right hip, satisfied that it was loose enough to let him move. Since Lowell's haunches sat a bit lower than his shoulders and his back legs were shorter, they did not want to risk having bags resting off his hips. The packs she would bear would be bundled to rest on top of Lowell's haunches on a padded layer, leaving unbridled space between the packs and the saddle so his spine could flex without strain.

She eyed the saddle with a touch of dismay. Never before had she needed a saddle with Lowell and she wondered if she might not end up just as uncomfortable as the bandersnatch. Unfortunately she wouldn't be able to simply ditch the tack once departed. Not only would the knights know but the tack itself was almost eighty pounds on its own since the leather had to be cut especially thick. Lowell would certainly rip or snap the straps that a regular horse would wear and she would hardly be able to drag all of it out of sight on her own. Then there was the fact that it was tooled leather, beautifully decorated with metal studs and embossed sigils of Marmoreal. Another sigh as she came around to his face once again, smiling at those sad eyes. "There now...you look like the noblest of horses. Only far more handsome!"

It wasn't known if the bandersnatch actually comprehended language the way other animals did but Lowell seemed to perk at her tone, shuffling his forearms until the saddle was settled more comfortably. Alice lifted the warm jowls so it seemed that Lowell was actually smiling and she giggled at the snarl-toothed picture created.

"Any horse would bear you gladly yet you ride the bandersnatch..."

Alice did jump this time and Lowell growled, eyes glaring at the high upper corner of his abode. A disembodied crescent grin hung in the air, twisting about until Cheshire made a full appearance, lazily rolling in the air. "Afternoon Chess." Alice greeted somewhat tersely. "Planning to go with us?"

He vanished and reappeared to sit on top of her head, which did not amuse the Champion in the slightest. Lowell's eyes were so focused on the cat that Alice had a moment's doubt about his restraint. "Oh goodness no, girl. There's much too much fun to be had here still. I had nearly forgotten the amusement a proper castle could bring."

"Yes, well..." she lifted him off her head, only to have him vanish and reappear on the saddle. Her eyes grew wide. Lowell would flip the second he realized where the cat was. "Chess..."

"Hm?" he purred, examining the claws of a paw casually. She hissed his name again and his green eyes rolled towards her. "You're quite testy today. Someone keep you up last night?"

She wanted to throw something at him, pointless as the act might be. However because that would upset Lowell unnecessarily, she settled for a fierce glare and crossed arms. "Just some dreams, if you must know." His grin stretched and she amended herself. "More nightmares, really."

"Hmm, I imagine your mind has been quite busy lately." He kneaded the padded seat of the saddle, claws catching with each lift.

"Yes well there's been quite a bit going on since your last visit." she snarked sarcastically. "Would you stop that!"

Cheshire vanished and reappeared at Alice's feet, rubbing around her legs and purring, his green eyes and wide grin focused on Lowell. The bandersnatch growled but made no move...yet. "It's Salazen Grum for you then is it?" Another vanish and reappearance, this time on her shoulders and with tail curled under her jaw. "Going the long way, stepping through the fertile fields of Tarrant's past?"

Her eyes narrowed at him when she detected meaning behind his decorated question. Taking it at face value, her tone indicated doubt and suspicion. "We will be traveling through Witzend, yes. I have yet to see the land in full and it certainly couldn't hurt to make friends on the way to Crims."

"If there are friends to be found..." he purred, dissolving as he rolled off her shoulders. Only his head reappeared before her the next time, his eternal grin becoming infuriating. "I hope you are ready for this journey, Champion."

"If you are worried, why don't you join us instead of slurking about in your own slurvish pursuits?" she challenged.

He chuckled, unmoved. "Such words from a young woman! Tarrant is a bad influence on you."

Alice's complexion warmed but it was definitely not in embarrassment. Being the fearless yet intelligent creature he was, Cheshire understood that his entertainment was over...Alice hadn't the mental fortitude to battle him that day. "Get some sleep, Alice...and don't bed down near the _spei_."

He vanished before she could gain clarification of just who or what a "spei" was, which didn't help her agitation towards him. "Bloody cat..." she grumbled, stepping forward to vigorously scratch Lowell's ears and neck in reward for having not lunged and potentially killed her twice. "Next time I'll just climb into the saddle and you can have at him, eh Lowell?" He "grmphed" and she giggled. "Alright, so we know this all fits and you're not tearing down walls to get out of it so let's get you undressed."

She'd just reached for the tack when Nivens came to a sliding stop in the stall, huffing slightly. She wondered, briefly, if he ever just _walked_ somewhere when he had news or orders. Probably not. He glanced at his watch though she was certain he wasn't on a timer. "Hello Nivens. In a hurry?"

"Alice! The Queen has requested that you see to the Hatter today. She does not want him tucked away in his shop the day before he is to leave." His tone suggested, imperiously, that she was simply to obey.

Alice was never quite able to forgive him for that nagging habit of speaking down to her. Even when being kind his voice still held hints of superiority. It didn't matter that she technically had no rank so he _was_ above her; she just could't get past it. Her response was tight. "I need to remove the tack from Lowell. Despite popular opinions, he does still deserve the care that any other rider might give their mount. I will see to him after this is done."

Having not been given a time limit on when Alice was to go, Nivens automatically assumed that Mirana meant immediately. It made him seem pushy but it was his way; he had never missed a date or order when assuming that it had to be done NOW. His pink nose twitched at her. "I'll call the stable hands to remove it, the Queen has requested something specific of you."

"Lowell will have them for lunch!" Alice snapped. The pink inside Nivens' ears flushed slightly darker, indicating he was getting upset as well and the Champion sighed through her teeth, getting a nudge from Lowell. "Alright fine. Call Mirana down to oversee the process and I will go."

He seemed to blanch under his fur. "Me? Order _her_?! Are you mad!?"

Alice grinned, snorted, then giggled, and dissolved into full laughter, exhausted and finding the choice of words to be hilarious. The rabbit looked at her oddly and shook his head, dashing away to find Mirana as requested. It took a minute before the laughter calmed and Alice could draw deeper breaths. She wiped a tear from the corner of each eye and hugged Lowell's neck. "Perhaps I am. Do you think so, Lowell?"

Grey eyes blinked at her and he flicked an ear as though in dismissal.

xxx

By the time Mirana had come down to oversee, Alice had at least loosened most of the straps. Lowell had whined as she left but Mirana had assured her he would be fine. So the Champion moved on to her next duty, though not without a stop on the way. For a few minutes, she lingered at Thackery's kitchen and talked with the hare while he kindly made tea; Alice having managed, after three years, to master the dance of how to get tea the first time when Thackery kept trying to toss the pot and cups. The key was to keep moving ("Move down! Move down!" she would giggle to herself) and to not be afraid to twist the hare about as he did quite enjoy dancing. She departed the kitchen with a tray for lunch and no goodbyes beyond the one tossed over her shoulder upon exiting. Thackery would hardly notice.

She nodded politely to those she passed on her way, everyone having a smile, hello, or well-wishing for her and her tour of Underland. It put some fears to rest, knowing that no one outright protested her going or her goals. Mirana had announced it proudly over dinner one winter evening after everything had been settled and it didn't seem that there was a soul that would try to stop her. The knights that would travel with her had also been enjoying a semi-celebrity status and Alice knew that there had been a few parties at the barracks where, no doubt, their shoulders were slapped and they were wished luck. It didn't bother her...she had no intention of turning this tour into something romantic.

"...been at it for hours now."

"Makes my knob itch something powerful, it does."

She paused, having arrived at the tail end of a conversation between the two doorknobs that managed the doors to Tarrant's workshop. Alice had to put the words aside unless she wanted her imagination to run wild. "Is the Hatter in?"

Left knob squeaked at her. "Oh yes indeed he is, m'dear."

Right knob jiggled in agreement. "Been working with that metal again, the poor dear."

Her face crumpled in confusion. "Metal?" She glanced at the door, knowing the smell of a smith's shop and sure that they were mistaken. "I don't smell any metals."

Right sighed. "Stupid humans...can never tell when it's around."

Left agreed. "Their noses just can't pick it up...can't blame them though, I don't want to smell it either!"

"Excuse me!" Alice scowled, gaining their immediate attention. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"The mercury, dear. The poor man's been working at it for a few hours now." Right explained.

"Should tie something over your face if you go in." Left urged. "You have something yes?"

"Well if she can't smell it she doesn't need to bind up her face, does she?"

"But we can smell it so it has to have a smell!" Left sneezed. "Can't blame her nose for being daft, can we?"

"Oh yes, a good point. Hide that dull nose of yours before you go in, girl!"

Confused and thinking she aught to be insulted, Alice none the less did as instructed, setting the tray down and pulling a kerchief from her trousers pocket. She'd gone with pants today as she'd given the bandersnatch a bath to clean off all the winter muck and she surely would have drowned if she'd attempted it with a dress! Fortunately she was dry again before meeting with the badger, though her hair was still slightly a mess. She hoped it wasn't too bad...no one had commented but still! Kerchief tied around her face and feeling much like a story-made guddler, she lifted the tray and tilted her head at the knobs. "Good enough?"

"How should we know?" they asked in near unison.

"Does it look like we tie our knobs up often?" Left asked sarcastically.

"Oh please just let me in." Alice sighed.

They obliged and Alice carefully made her way in, nudging the doors shut after balancing the tray on her hip. She still couldn't smell anything untoward and the Hatter was nowhere to be found. "Hatter?" she called.

No response. She set the tray down on a semi-clear table, drawing the kerchief down and investigating. The knobs seemed sure that he was in here. "Hatter?" she called again, moving around a table that was overflowing with fabric and leather scraps. Another few minutes of searching came up with no results and she frowned, moving towards the large windows, which is when she saw it. There was a curtain not entirely covering a door. Alice had a moment of deja vu but shook it off, approaching the curtain and pushing it aside. The door it covered was open a crack and within she could hear movement. "Hatter?" she called, a little nervous as she pushed the door open.

Behind it was a secondary room, this one more compact and certainly not as bright. There was a window but the light only seemed to emphasis the dusty, dull condition of things. Looking away from the window, she found Tarrant hunched over a table, using a brush to spread a chemical over a pelt. "H-Hatter?" she stammered, desiring nothing more than to grab him and sprint back into the more vivid room. She reached out and touched the center of his back.

xxx

He burned.

It was a burn that started at his forehead and spread down his face, reaching slowly around until he felt like his entire head was on fire. The memories assailed him, coming and going so fast that they formed the roar of the pyre. Memory was not appeased by his work today, too far gone and punch-drunk on the sheer _vastness_ of the possibilities that tomorrow presented. She did not specialize in the future but oh how she could throw the past around to remind him that his future was very uncertain indeed! Good and bad, all possibilities came at him, new ideas joined the cacophony and they giggled and pointed at him, brought up visions of things that were not there. He tried to laugh to dissuade them, to throw them off the scent and let him be. But they knew. His laughter was weak and short, and eventually broke down into long streams of insane, nonsensical laughter at nothing and everything. He had difficulties controlling and directing his thoughts and with his laughter shaking his shoulders, his hands slipped and needles had stabbed his palm.

It woke the fire in his hand.

Memory and possibilities grabbed that fire and painstakingly dragged it up his arm an inch at a time until his head and his entire arm were burning. Work was not helping...he knew the mercury was only stoking the blaze, making his hands shake. So he laughed more, cutting off abruptly to grab his hair, fingers fisted painfully tight when Memory struck with particular cruelness. He groaned softly and within a few moments it passed but the pain of it lingered.

Gritting his teeth, he forced out another laugh, determined that he would find the laugh that would make the roar die down. He set his task aside and drew over a new pelt, grabbing his brush and dipping it within the toxin that defined him, made him, and would destroy him in due time. He coated the pelt liberally and giggled at the fire that consumed his arm, made his hand shake as he reached to refill the brush.

Then there was a touch.

Breathless was how he thought of it. Suddenly the flames were starved for air and snuffed. His hand still shook slightly but he dropped the brush and closed the fingers into a fist, watching it until it stopped shaking. The touch was joined by a second and this one balmed and bound invisible wounds, plucked the fangs and claws from Memory to leave it whimpering and harmless.

"Hatter! Hatter, please!"

Scared. He knew that tone. He'd heard it in his own voice too many times in this room. "I'm fine..." he whispered, relaxing his hand as his fist ceased to shake. With a small sigh of relief, he turned on the stool, blinking at Alice as though surprised to see her. "You shouldn't be in here."

He sounded tired, as though he'd been fighting. Alice's expression was nothing but concerned and she reached up, stroking his cheeks reassuringly though he'd indicated no duress. "You shouldn't be here either. Come with me."

She moved to take his hands but Tarrant jumped to his feet and jammed his hands into his pockets. "NO!"

Startled, Alice took a step back, swallowing hard. "Tarrant, please come into the other room with me."

Tarrant took a breath and relaxed, realizing his reaction was a touch over the top and he'd frightened her. "I'm sorry, my dear. I need to scrub my hands before you can touch them. Mercury is not kind." He smiled in a way he hoped was reassuring.

Alice regarded him critically, satisfied after a minute that he was indeed riding a sane mental track at that moment. "Come into the other room, Tarrant. I will drag you by your shirt if not by your hands."

He laughed and happily followed her out as requested, closing the door behind himself and dropping the curtain over it once more. "If you are so eager for another shirt, you merely have to point it out, m'lady."

She blushed becomingly and scowled at him. "Hush! Go scrub your hands as you said you need to and then come join me for lunch!"

With a boyish grin he did as instructed, moving to join her for tea by the windows only after he'd scrubbed his hands until they glowed red. A light tea, crustless sandwiches, and crumpets with honey and jam were set out and ready for them both. Alice was already nibbling on the edge of a crumpet and smiled at him as he sat. "Better?"

"Quite." he affirmed, contemplating the tray before plucking a sandwich and biting off the corner. Tea followed, the flavor mild but sweet...a brow quirked at his companion. "Adding sugar to my tea for me, are you?"

Her face settled on a look of deceptive innocence. "Wouldn't dream of it, my dear Hatter. Me? Risk spoiling the sanctity of your tea?"

Green eyes narrowed in mock suspicion as he sipped again, the cup lowering to expose a suave smile. "Perhaps it is just your company then. Sweet as can be." He relished the developing rosy hue of her face before getting her back for her cheek. "The tea, that is. Perfectly sweetened!"

Alice's pleased expression crashed into a sulk as Tarrant chuckled at her expense. She huffed a sigh and opened her mouth to grumble when she happened to glance at his hands, noting their vivid coloring. It was striking against the white of the sugar cubes he was stacking. "Tarrant...do you always scrub your hands so roughly? They look almost raw!"

"Hmm?" he paused, brows raised. "Oh!" The cubes were ignored as he reviewed his hands in the light. His left palm still tingled, even days after Alice's touch. Though perhaps that was the pins from earlier, he couldn't be sure. The orange and pink blotches on his fingers made him scowl. Ugly. Far too ugly for the company he presently kept but she had never made comment. He sighed. "I just wanted to be sure I had all that muck off, my dear Alice. It is a most unpleasant part of hatting."

He resumed eating and Alice felt incredibly awful about dragging a black mark across the profession he loved so dearly. She watched him quietly for a moment, the feeling gnawing at her until she reached out and took one of his hands, stopping his restless motion. Carefully, she turned the appendage in the light. The color was fading to normal levels as she watched, exposing more of the odd colored blotches. There was fleet dexterity to his hands, she knew, and a strength born of an iron will, of determination. She smiled up at him, his face locked in an odd expression caught between anxiety and wonder. Her hands squeezed the one she held before releasing it, feeling exhaustion creeping up her spine. "Mother always told me I'd grow to the size of a balloon from eating so many crumpets, you know. I would laugh and tell her it would be all the more force behind her demands for a corset." She giggled.

Tarrant blinked at the comment. Much like Cheshire it had seemed to come from nowhere but that was when he noticed it. Alice's restless night was catching up to her and her eyes were drooping, her eyes less focused than normal. He took a last sip of tea and quickly moved to clear the divan of the multitude of hats currently occupying it. Normally it stayed clear for when Alice visited, she tended to lounge and daydream while watching him work, but with her being so busy recently, it had become a target for finished hats.

"What are you doing?" Alice shook her head, regretting the herbal tea she'd chosen. It did nothing to help her stay awake and on top of sitting in the sun...she sighed.

He tisked at her, returning to her side and extending a hand, which she took. "You look exhausted, Alice. Take some rest or you'll be sleeping in your tea!"

She looked from his hand to his face, brow furrowed slightly. "Promise me you won't go back in there tonight."

Tarrant glanced towards the curtain for a mere second, nodding solemnly. Only then did she allow herself to be guided to her feet and towards the divan. She paused but took a seat, leaning back with heavy eyes and a soft mutter. "I have a bed I could sleep in, Tarrant...."

"You are welcome to leave if you wish." he smiled, bringing her feet onto the divan.

"Nm'fine..." she breathed.

Seeing that she was very nearly out cold, he smiled and retrieved a length of heavy silk, cutting it from the bolt and draping it over her form. There was a moment of indecision before he leaned down and boldly pressed a kiss to her forehead, whispering so to not disturb her. "Thank you, Alice."

xxx

The dawn broke over a collection of busy bodies in the courtyard, the hazy light warming from grey to orange while the sun slowly woke up. In the center of it all were Mirana and Alice, the latter mounted upon Lowell and surveying the loose crowd while trying to adjust to the feeling of the saddle. Lowell grunted and grumphed, shuffling himself into the new adjustment that was a requirement to their leaving. Alice scratched his shoulders occasionally, tugging at the riding breeches she'd been given. They were still quite new and a bit stiff...not helping her nerves. "Where is he?"

Mirana lifted a brow and smiled up at her, patting her leg. "Patience. He will be here."

Galen rode up, looking quite regal and strikingly normal on a warhorse. He had gone on in a fit of chivalry about needing to ride out in full armor, freshly polished and gleaming in the sun, gold threading on his cape with a fresh banner in one arm and a sword in the other. Mirana, thankfully, had talked him out of it though she suspected he had packed some of his plate armor given the bulk in his saddlebags. He'd settled for chain mail under his long surcoat and short tabard and it chinked quietly with his mount's movements. The stallion snorted and stomped his heavy hooves onto the stones, offering a deep nod to Mirana. "Hail, majesty! All provisions are confirmed and accounted for!"

The knight shook his head, sputtering in outrage that the horse had spoken for him! "Hey now, Kellog! Ease off will you!"

"Kellog" (aka Kreig) resisted the urge to buck the moron off his back, more so because he was a noble and proud horse and would not stoop to the level of a temperamental colt. He snorted and shook his head, receiving a reassuring rub along the length of his face from Mirana. "Thank you, both of you. I trust you are both steeled for the journey?"

"No more than a run around the grounds, m'lady!" Galen grinned confidently.

She wanted to remind him that he was going out with _Alice_ of all people. Things went neither wrong or right around her but they always went awry. "Your confidence is welcome, Sir Galen. Have you seen Sir Hart?"

"Here, m'lady."

She moved around Kreig's bulk to spy Hart riding up silently upon the great white panther that graciously bore him. They looked very ready for bear, bags packet neat and tight, the long white tail waving slow and calmly. Hart also wore mail but had accessorized himself with a studded leather vest as well rather than attempting to sneak plate out on the journey. He bore no swore but carried a halberd, javelin, and a shield much smaller than either Alice or Galen bore. All this was packed away neatly and would likely remain that way until they left the Tulgey Wood's edge behind. His hawk-like eyes absorbed the happenings, picking up information and dismissing what didn't register at a threat. If nothing else, he would be the eyes of the journey and that put Mirana at ease since Alice's vision tended to be absorbed in the immediate at times.

"I am ready, whenever our last member decides to show." Hart confirmed her question, black locks partially tied back to keep them out of his face. "He does remember that we are leaving?"

Mirana caught herself before her expression exposed her thoughts on his tone and was saved from speaking by Galen, who punched the knight's arm with a hearty laugh. "The palace is alive with the news, old boy! There is not a soul in the White Castle that does not know we are headed for glory!"

"Glory...right..." Hart rolled his eyes, rubbing at his arm.

The Queen turned back to Alice, who was worrying her lower lip with her teeth. She'd enjoyed her rest at the Hatter's workshop, her sleep blessedly dreamless. Since deciding to stay, she had been terrified of pinching herself to wake herself from dreams or nightmares...lest she wake up in London and find that all this had been the dream. "Questions to answer..." she whispered under her breath.

Before Mirana could question the murmur, she spied a flash of movement and smiled. "Ah, here he is!"

On his approach, Alice had a moment to experience and move past another surprise about the Hatter. He rode into the courtyard at an easy walking gait astride a cocky looking cavalry horse, looking absurdly comfortable in the saddle for someone whom Alice had never seen so much as approach the stables. The great claymore was strapped to the saddle for storage, resting under his right knee while a secondary short sword was sheathed on the left side. A shield was strapped over the saddlebags to the left flank. Unlike his companions, he wore no mail or leather but had traded most of the gentlemanly trappings for a casual ghillie shirt of spring green, the pale tabbard of Marmoreal, and grey riding breeches, patched here and there. His shoes were changed out for boots that looked quite old, as though they had been out of service for a number of years and forgotten in a closet. Over the tabbard was a tartan cloak of his family's colors and upon his head was his hat...to her great relief. As he came closer, she peered closer at the saddle, meeting his eye and smiling as she spied a small leather bag with needles threaded into it. No doubt there were spools of thread contained within and she felt absurdly better for it!

"Gentleman." Tarrant greeted the knights with a nod of his head, the pair looking at him as though he'd quite possibly begun spawning a second head, to then turn towards Alice and Mirana, removing his hat and bowing within the saddle. "Majesty. M'lady." He smiled at Alice, snugging the hat on once more.

His horse flinched when Kreig nipped his leg, a stern glare reminding him that he had a duty as well. With the melodrama of the young, he bowed his head to Mirana briefly. He had been waiting for this day for months and was all too eager to get out among the field and freedom of not being told what to do left and right by the elders in the stalls around him! Mirana stroked his face as well, to his joy. He lipped her hand in appreciation, hearing an outraged snort from the warhorse behind him.

Mirana merely smiled serenely, admiring the differences in this Hatter. Clearly he was taking the entire journey very seriously, though she had spied the bag of spools as well, making her grin. Tarrant merely cleared his throat when she raised a brow at him. "Now you are all gathered. Are you prepared?"

"Yes m'lady!" Galen whooped enthusiastically. "We ride for the glory of Marmalade!"

"Marmoreal!" Hart snapped as viciously as his voice allowed.

"That's what I said!" Galen sighed in exasperation. "Really, Hillman, you need to listen more closely!"

"You also remember the goal, yes?" Mirana interrupted before things leapt out of hand.

"To Salazen Grum." Tarrant provided though not without a frown. "And whatever we may find in tha' god-forsaken place."

"And?"

Her question was open-ended but very direct to those that knew and Tarrant certainly knew. He looked to Alice, getting a blush from her though he did nothing. "To keep A...the Champion, safe."

The Queen smiled, inordinately pleased. She turned to Alice. "And you, Champion. Are you ready?"

"I am." she answered without hesitation.

A great cheer rose at her confidence and Alice looked around, recalling a day similar to this three years past. Instead of the citizens and nobles, it had been the army of Marmoreal that cried her name. She'd been a live wire of terror and adrenaline, riding on the tenuous belief that she _could_ do what needed to be done. The memory washed over and filled her, reminding her that this time, she was riding out for peace and prosperity; for exploration and knowledge; for herself.

Tarrant watched her with a nearly painful swelling of personal pride. His mind had traveled back as hers had and he remembered feeling the same on that day though when his voice had joined with the army's, he knew his was unique among the mass. They cheered her name as a synonym for freedom, strength, hope...Tarrant had cried her name for these, but also for vengeance. His family would be set to rest by her will and the swing of her arm and he had known a few minutes of unadulterated peace as the foul Jabberwocky's head thumped down at the Bloody Big Head's feet. The precious vial that held a physical memory of that day rested around his neck along with the key to his workshop.

Mirana observed her people's excitement and smiled up at Alice. "Whenever you are ready, Champion, you have my leave. And Alice..." her smile touched on sarcastic. "...do try to stay out of trouble."

"Some say I am trouble." Alice smirked, glancing at the Hatter, who looked back at her much too innocently. "To Salazen Grum!"

The party rode out of the courtyard with the roar of Marmoreal in their wake.


	5. Chapter 5

_Some quick notes: Thank you for your patience! I'm sorry but seeing how many people favorited or alerted or even commented on my story admittedly caught me flat-footed and made my mind go blank for a while. I had to take a step back and review as people seem to be liking this more than I'd given it credit for. :) My appreciation to all thusfar and I hope you continue to enjoy._

_As always, all mistakes are mine._

_On with ye!  
_

xxxx

It started out much the same as any other time: blurred vision that slowly cleared as he blinked, his eyes focusing on the focusing shapes of ribbons, fuzzy sounds becoming the strains of music...a festival.

He giggled to himself, knowing somewhere that this was wrong, something bad was going to happen. Yet the gaiety of the event quickly swept him past such ominous thoughts and yet again put him square in the middle of the fun. It very nearly made his heart swell to bursting. This was a cousin's wedding day, full of life and merriment, food and drink, dance and song...oh how he had missed it!

She was a milliner as well, perhaps why the dream came more often than others, and they had never suffered from long silences or lack of topics. That day she was marrying a vintner's son under a summer sun...a day warm and long before the Horunvendush Day. The wine was full and plentiful, a gift of the groom's father that had already given cause to one drunken brawl. However, as the mood was festive, the fight was brief and its combatants close companions immediately following. A round of song started up and a mug was pressed into Tarrant's hand. His hand opened to accept and hold the drink but it did not move to his lips, so entranced was he by the sight of so many once lost forever.

His nearly comical staring caught the eye of the bride and she crossed the party to reach him. Her face was a vision, framed by glorious waves of sun-touched red locks. She glowed with happiness, the only trace of madness to be found on her being the madness of love. The mug was deftly removed from his hand, her hands grasping both of his while she smiled brilliantly at him. "Come now lad! What's makin' you pull tha' face? Like you're lookin' at ghosts it is."

He smiled, feeling tears bead at the corners of his eyes. Was he more insane for wanting this fantasy or for knowing full well it was a fantasy and continuing though he knew the outcome? "Just happy you're happy is all, m'lady."

Laughter. It soothed and burned all at once, tweaking the side that insisted there was something _wrong_. Her eyes sparkled and she latched onto his arm, making him walk with her. "An' when will your handfastin' be, y'old man? Gregan and I were wakin' the priest before the dawn with the passin of a year and a day!"

Tarrant chuckled, patting her hand where it rested on his arm. "Too busy in the shop for such games, anymore. And that' last one di'not go so well, you know." he grimaced.

"Tsk!" she clucked her tongue. "Fiona was a fool and ill fit for you, we all knew it! Yet you were quite smitten by parts more obvious to a man's eye." she grinned slyly.

He blushed with appropriate shame and cleared his throat. "Yer not exactly in line for sainthood yerself, y'know."

She didn't take the bait, merely turned towards him with an expression that was still light though touched with worry. "Truly, Tarrant. Offer a fairing or two to the lasses...or the lads." Green eyes rolled at her cheeky-grinned tease. "I just don't want you to end up alone."

Her husband called and she looked away, the turn of her head throwing her hair against the fading light. It shimmered along the red strands, alighting the edges with a gold fire. Tarrant winced from the sudden brightness. Looking back the surprise ebbed, pushed back as he found that the sensual play of light had warped into a hellish inferno. The golden kiss of sun had become flames...she was burning, they all were! Wide-eyed, he watched a horror he'd been too late to stop unfold before him. Music became screams set to the rhythm of feet pounding; of bodies thrashing in the throes of pain and death; of the beat of heavy black wings. Sweet air was turned fetid with decay and the cruel laugh of the Jabberwocky echoed in the fading, ash-colored aftermath.

xxxx

Tarrant bolted upright, gasping for breath and gripping his chest over his heart. Beneath the flesh it raced wildly for several minutes while he worked on calming down. Pale eyes glanced around sharply, seeing all and yet nothing until his heart calmed enough and he was able to absorb his surroundings through his senses. The painfully bright burn to his right cleared to become the glow of low-burning embers, the remnants of the small fire that had lulled them all off to sleep. The cottony feeling in his ears dissolved to let him hear the soft snoring of Galen, who clutched a plate greave in his sleep, and the ambient noise surrounding their camp. Nearby, Lowell's breath rumbled deep in his chest as he slept...within a heavy paw's swipe of Alice. The Champion had made no noise since she'd fallen asleep.

He scrubbed his face with his hands, sighing into his palms. _Just a dream. _He reached for a wineskin, scowling at the thoughts of dreams...dreams that made his tongue taste like ash even when awake. The mild alcohol splashed past his tongue and down his throat but did not remove the parched sensation. The skin was tossed back towards his kit in disgust as his legs stretched, lifting him from the ground in a slow motion. From his full height, his eyes absorbed the nightscape, taking in silhouettes and filing them away as potential shapes and inspiration for later designs. His eyes narrowed on a bush, the edges of its broad leaves having caught the low light of the fire. As he stared, the darkness saturated around the light, creating a hard contrast and a cutting pattern of light that called to mind images of his ride back to his village. After seeing Mirana safely back to the White Castle he'd ridden as fast as he could, only weeks later realizing that the darkness he'd sped through was not normal for the time of day. What light there was had come from the remnants of hungry flames.

"Couldn't sleep?"

The milliner nearly leapt from his skin, jumping visibly and glancing around in a panic until he saw Hart. The knight stood by the fire, poking at the embers and warming them to life again to feed on some new small branches. Tarrant stared at him as though he were a foreign creature until reality settled back into order for him and he recognized the knight. "Sleep? Oh, um...n-no."

Hart nodded, shifting his weight to one leg. He'd come back from a quick patrol to feed the fire a bit and found Tarrant simply standing there, staring at heaven only knew what. The Hatter hadn't responded to his return nor to any of his attempts to gain his attention. Hart wasn't about to touch the man so had fed the fire and waited it out, occasionally tossing out a comment in the hope that it might catch. He hadn't been sure if the Hatter's stillness was more unnerving than his normal state. He also didn't want to simply leave him there like that. There was a fellow knight to be worried about but more so there was the Champion. Castle rumor put her and the Hatter as cozy companions however mad was mad and the Hightopp brand of mad demanded a bit of care. Especially since this Hightopp had skill with more than just pins and needles. Hart looked to Tarrant, his weight shifting to the other leg. "You've been standing here for quite a time. Is there something I can help with?"

"A time?" Tarrant frowned, reminded that Time was a rude bugger to him; stepping out when he would be most needed. A pity he felt it necessary to tag along with Alice. No wonder tea times seemed to fly by some days. "If I may, how long?"

"About thirty minutes or so..." Hart trailed off, unsure of how exactly to address the Hatter. Since the chances of conversation with him had increased exponentially with this assignment, Hart pushed aside his own feelings and made an effort. "Forgive me, but how should I address you?"

A flurry of names and possible titles flitted past Tarrant's mind, making him giggle. The sound made Hart take a half-step back, unnoticed by the Hatter. "Oh my...I suppose "Lord Hightopp" would be a bit much, wouldn't it?" Another giggle, this one a little more intense. Hart stopped breathing for a moment. "I think "Hatter" will be just fine, good knight."

Thankful that he wasn't going to be forced into using the man's given name, Hart relaxed. Slightly. "Very well, Hatter. I have another hour yet before Sir Galen will take up watch, was there something I could assist with?"

Tarrant stared. The knight poked at the fire with a long, narrow branch, his eyes watching the fire and the Hatter's thoughts of patterns and silhouettes were replaced with previous curiosities. He didn't spend much time around soldiers and certainly his trade was less desired among those found in barracks however he'd encountered Hart a few times while preparations had taken place over winter. Generally the meetings were a brief and formal affair; had while at the tailors and once among the blacksmiths and armorers. Any words exchanged were few and curt, quite to the point. Hart avoided being near Tarrant for extended period, tended to avoid much eye contact, and shuffled uneasilly at the mention of anything to do with the Red Queen and Salazen Grum. Despite the sky-high popularity of Alice and her most recent adventures with the Jabberwocky, he abruptly changed subjects when it was brought up. Hart's words fully sunk in and Tarrant blinked, face contorting in confusion. "Wait...taking up a watch? We're still a a mere stone's throw from Marmoreal. That is, if stones could throw...though would a stone throw another stone? Maybe weeds instead...yes, nettles in a mood are a nasty bunch..."

"Regardless of where we may be, we are not in Marmoreal. Once we leave the Tulgey Wood's edge behind us, we will have to be highly cautious as at that point, it will be a full day's ride to get back if we need help." Hart broke the thin branch in half, then again before tossing the remnants into the fire.

"Cautious? War has never come from Snud. They are merchants and architects more than soldiers." he dismissed the concern casually.

Hart scowled. "War has never come from Outland either but that is not to say that they will not blast their way through the Crags to take the fertile lands of Witzend!"

The fire-lit earth tone of Tarrant's iris shifted to a primal yellow and long fingers rubbed at the side of his face in an attempt to ease a sudden series of muscle spasms. Hart decided then that it was probably best to _not_ make a point with anything to do with the Hatter's homeland. Tarrant laughed, low and unpleasant. "They could surely try. Witzend is more than joost the farms and fields, lad."

A stalemate occurred for a moment, each man staring at the other until Hart's resolve wavered and he cleared his throat while glancing back to the fire. "Indeed, though I have only your word to go by, Hatter."

Green filtered back in and Tarrant rubbed his eyes. He was too tired to be talking about his homeland at the moment and really just wanted to fall into a dreamless sleep. If there was anything kind about his rest it was that Memory only plagued him once. If she teased him and molded his guilt and anger in sleep, she did not make a second visit in the same night. He forced a half-smile to his lips. "Goin' by the word of a madman, perhaps you should have your head checked, Knight."

Hart glanced towards the sleeping Alice and then towards the Hatter. "She seems to have faith in your word." Before Tarrant could pursue the line of thought, Hart rolled his shoulders so the joints popped softly and stepped away from the fire's light. "I will do a final round before returning to wake Galen. Rest well, Hatter."

Tarrant watched with mild amazement as the knight's tall form disappeared into the night, the dark cloak he wore disguising the brilliant tabbard of Marmoreal. He shook his head, all the more confused by the knight and his strange tendencies. The fire burned with more life now, illuminating the spill of Alice's hair and drawing Tarrant's eye towards the waves. He dimly recalled, from many years prior (at least he thought it was years though sometimes it seemed only days but Time had been funny for a while, stopping and starting but mostly stopping and drawing out the moments), mentioning something to her about needing to cut her hair. Really the length she kept it at was highly impractical, especially for a journey such as they were engaged in. He had once had the long hair of a gentleman, a carefully maintained coif of auburn waves. When he'd returned to himself after the loss of his own, his hair had been one of the first things to suffer. A pair of scissors cut away uneven hanks of hair but he hadn't cared. He was past the point of true vanity then and his hair, when he hadn't been pulling at it, grew out in a wild spray and in a vivid color that accurately reflected the unserved rage in his soul. Since Alice's victory, he had been making the effort to let it grow again though some days he stared at his fabric shears with vicious intent.

Quietly, he walked to Alice's sleeping pallet, taking a seat and continuing to watch her. She slept well it seemed, her rest remarkably deep for someone who claimed to have never slept on the ground before; barring of course her brief use of his hat as shelter. That detail of her adventure had made him particularly happy and added yet another feather to his cap...or would, when he found just the right feather. Of course if she had seemed uncomfortable, he would have been the first to offer anything on hand to aid her...even if he had to be annoyingly masculine about it. Hart had disappeared after setting up his kit however Galen had been particularly attentive to Alice's needs as they'd made camp for the evening and Tarrant had held his tongue only because Alice masterfully directed the man's focus away at every turn and used what little status she truly had to emphasize her points.

"Tea..." he murmured suddenly, rising and disappearing towards his second pack, from which he pulled a simple setting for tea. The blacksmiths had given him the oddest looks when he'd requested a kettle that could be used while traveling away from a civilized kitchen (the same could be achieved with a regular pot!). None the less they had made it and now was as good a time as any to try it out. They had included a small stand from which to hang the kettle and he quickly finished the setup, taking up his previous seat while he waited. The unnecessary items took up precious space but Tarrant couldn't be away from tea. Not only was it delicious but it helped to sooth away his nightmares and provided an opportunity to talk with Alice when no other proposal seemed like the right approach.

And now she was asleep. He smiled at uselessness of his effort. "So much for your ploys, old man." He chuckled at himself. "Tea for one an' back to bed."

Perhaps it was some quiet night sound or the momentary roll of his brogue but Alice stirred, though not much. Her head lifted and turned towards Tarrant, when she blinked tiredly and smile in similar fashion. "Hello."

He smiled, speaking as one might sooth a child. "Back to sleep wid ya, lass. Dawn's long yet."

She frowned, narrowing her eyes at the fire for a moment before smirking at Tarrant, who seemed a trifle embarrassed if his sudden fidget was anything to go by. "Tea? In the rough, my dear Hatter?" How utterly absurd, a set for tea brought on a short tour of the land!

"Why certainly, m'lady!" he affirmed with confidence and lisp renewed. "One never knows. We may happen upon a dignitary performing rounds of his estate and we certainly wouldn't want to offer wine upon a first meeting!"

"Ah, much too personal, the gift of wine." Alice giggled, not bothering to rise just yet. "Could you not sleep?"

Tarrant grimly recalled flashes of his nightmare and shook his head. "Just a bit noisy is all. Nothing a cup of tea won't cure."

Silently, she agreed and let the issue slide, finding it terribly fitting for the restless Hatter to not want to be away from his tea. Having been stuck at six PM for who knew how long certainly would have made anyone rather attached to their teas! She recalled the two times over the last three years that she had caught him late at night in one of the kitchens, quietly managing a kettle at a stove. When he'd noticed her, there had been no words, only brief smiles and a showy flip of his hand to produce another saucer and cup. They drank in silence and serenity, taking comfort in the company and the lack of explanation. Upon finishing, they parted ways with quiet, polite goodbyes. For her part, she had felt lighter in those moments...she only hoped her mute company had provided some relief to him as well.

The kettle began to whistle and Tarrant carefully pulled it from the fire, dropping a tea ball into the top and letting it steep. Shame really, to use the kettle as both kettle and pot but he could not imagine risking a fine china piece and decided it was one small sacrifice he could make. Shyly, his eyes lifted to hers. "Would you care for a cup?"

"Do you have cups?" she inquired, a fair brow lifting with interest.

"Simple fare, I am afraid, however I dare say they are better than a knight's all-purpose mug." He unwrapped a small cup of glazed clay, its design simple but definitely less practical than the mugs mentioned. He had wrapped them carefully in scraps of cloth and so far, their simplicity seemed to have granted them immunity from the road. Without a trace of shame, he unwrapped a second cup as well.

Alice smiled and sat up, keeping herself wrapped warmly within her blanket. "Fortunately it is the company rather than the china that brings me to tea, dear Hatter."

Just then, he was struck by the idea that perhaps it was not the tea that soothed his mind, but what he had begun to associate with drinking it. "I-I could not take cream for fear of it spoiling...though I may have brought some sugar."

If anyone would have, surely it would have been Tarrant. Alice laughed softly and shook her head. "It is fine, Tarrant. I think I smell an herbal tea so it should not require either."

"Aye...lavender." He noticed that she still appeared quite tired, her eyes slightly glossy and not fully open while her posture was somewhat hunched. "You should rest, Alice. No need to keep me company."

"Don't be silly." She turned one of the cups between her hands, smiling tiredly over at him. "You should rest as well, you know. Can't have my champion asleep in the saddle."

Tarrant's face flushed and Alice was treated to the unique experience of a completely flabbergasted Hatter. She could see the way he actually stopped breathing for a minute before his chest hitched and he began to laugh in a breathless manner. It intensified just a little before ebbing while he pour the tea. "Oh my...my apologies. I'm not quite sure what brought that on." His eyes were lowered and his hand shook slightly as he offered a cup to Alice.

She accepted the tea offered, sipping slowly and pointedly ignoring the tremor. Silence rested comfortably between them until Hart's return to wake Galen. Alice gave a nod to the tall knight and watched as Tarrant offered tea and was turned down. Perhaps it was just her exhaustion but she imagined the tall man almost tripped over a half-awake Galen in his haste to escape the ring of their camp, heading for his own kit. Tarrant did not offer the tea to Galen, though he did have to explain it would sooner put the knight back to sleep than give him "the vigor to outlive the night", as the white knight put it. She didn't hear the rest of the conversation, too consumed with the soft scent of lavender, the odd comfort of her bedroll, and the peace that came from knowing she was under the Hatter's devout watch.

xxxx

They traveled slowly, their unhurried pace a testament to the land's renewal after the Red Queen's banishment. Each man among her company took moment to regale her with what they knew of where they crossed as well as personal stories. Even Hart shyly shared a tale of his childhood, soft voice utterly appropriate as he spoke fondly of a hunting trip with a much older brother. Alice attempted to keep the subject to just tales of the land and its history however the personal insights were simply too good to pass up. Unfortunately, this tended to veer and remind her that she was in the company of men. Three human men, to be precise, each with an eye towards her for, she suspected, not dissimilar reasons. Her mother simply would have died to know she had no chaperone! Their fond fire-side tales would quickly give way to boasts and brags and some tales that surely were pure fiction! Even Tarrant was not immune despite his otherwise gentlemanly behavior and she'd caught his eye once or twice in the midst of it, making him stumble on his boasts. Alice was not unfamiliar with such displays, having seen the puffed chests and straight-backed antics in the name of her attention before in Overland. At times it amused and at others, such as then, she more than had her fill. Overland would have had her stay put and bear it. Thankfully she was in Underland and merely rode ahead to escape it, just far enough to hear them stop boasting and begin grumbling at one another.

"I bet _you_ would be just as bad too," Alice sighed, smiling and scratching Lowell's right shoulder. He merely whuffed in a nonchalant way, to which Alice grinned. "Oh I see, but I think you're lying. You'd be acting top-dog among your fellows if the chance to impress came along!" His heavy tail thumped the ground and he twisted his head around to glance up at her. She could have sworn there was a canine smirk around his mass of teeth. "You, sir, are fortunately to be strangely cute!"

He sniffed at the weak threat, glancing behind himself with quirked ears. Alice turned and spied Tarrant riding forward. Apparently he was escaping a new argument as Hart had begun to shout at Galen, who was puffed to the point he reminded her of a highly agitated bird. "More name mix ups?" she inquired lightly.

"A lover's quarrel for all I know." Tarrant shrugged. When silence followed, he noticed Alice was fairly red and staring agog at him. He blinked in confusion and then laughed as his words came back to him. "Oh my, I assure you that was quite unintentional, m'lady!" He waited a beat as Alice regained some composure before an impish grin stretched his lips and he completed his thought. "I'm sure the barracks are much to crowded for such a thing anyway."

"_Tarrant!_" she hissed, laughing for lack of knowing what else to do. "For the love of God keep your voice down!"

He rode closer and leaned in with a roguish smile and a whisper. "I should whisper closely then? So it sounds and seems more like gossip?"

Alice imagined her ears might burst into flames from embarrassment. "You are terrible, Mister Hightopp!"

Laughing brightly, he moved slightly off Lowell's side; removing Morgan from temptation. The young horse was spry but Lowell's bulk was deceptive to his speed. A quick lash of any of his feet would put Morgan out of commission, possibly indefinitely. "Surely they have such dandy gentlemen in Overland?"

The Champion guiltily recalled giggling with her sister more than once over going shopping in London and attempting to guess the straight men from the "gentle-men" as their mother had very carefully phrased it. That had been before Margaret's marriage and after that, Alice found the game too invasive to play on her own. "There are some, certainly. Though never would you hear such a casual mention of such a thing!"

Tarrant regarded her in honest surprise. "Alice, my dear, you must open those ears of yours! Playing around the soldiers and only _now_ you balk?!"

All embarrassment and amusement drained and her eyes hardened. "I have not been 'playing' among the soldiers, Hatter. I was learning, if you'll recall, and you'll pardon me if I was deaf to anything not tied to my training!"

Lowell stomped ahead, urged more by the tone than her heels. Tarrant gripped his reigns with unnecessary force, the leather creaking in his fingers. He did not pursue the short length she'd traveled but stayed back in personal rebuke. Alice was driven, of that there could be no doubt, but she was also constantly striving to prove herself, even after the Jabberwocky. No matter his thoughts on the matter, he knew better than to make light of her efforts.

The minutes dragged and eventually Morgan snorted. "Best get to her now, Hatter. No better time to win forgiveness than when she's hot."

Tarrant scowled. "I _beg_ your pardon?!"

Morgan kicked slightly, annoyed with the human. "When she's angry, you fool! No better time to make amends. No woman truly _wants_ to be angry and to get past it, she'll be willing to see the best of you right now!"

"What would a horse know of a woman's heart?" he harumphed. "Alice is no ordinary creature, you know!"

The stallion stopped dead and wheeled his head around, biting at his rider and making Tarrant flinch. "Either we go now or I'll stay here and let those two catch up. Perhaps they can cool her ire instead?"

Galen and Hart had certainly noticed that they had fallen too far behind and had moved to a faster clip, apparently still bickering if their arms were any measure of it. Tarrant growled unhappily. "Go."

Morgan did so, though not without a snort that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. As Alice wasn't in a rush it took only a handful of seconds to catch up to the side of Lowell, where Morgan wisely kept his jaw shut; possibly helped by the hungry look Lowell gave him. Tarrant took a breath and before nerves could betray him, he reached out and took Alice's hand, only to find that he could not speak.

Simply because Alice beat him to it.

"Don't fret, Tarrant."

From his slightly lower height, Tarrant closed his jaw and was recipient of a smile he felt unworthy of. None the less, he squirreled it away selfishly, hiding it in a place where he could pull it out in the middle of a storm. It made him want to hug her however the mounts and difference in heights made such a thing impossible. _Too tall._ He smiled and squeezed her hand instead, remaining mute as the knights had caught up. Galen stared at their joined hands as he rode up on the milliner's left. Tarrant swore he could hear Hart's teeth grinding as he rode up on Alice's right. Alice smirked down upon her friend and squeezed his hand back before releasing it to scratch along Lowell's spine. "Welcome back, gentlemen."

"Thank you, m'lady." Hart muttered.

Silence rolled over the eight, broken only by the sounds of hooves, paws, and breathing. It stayed with them, content to fill the gaps with a nearly tangible presence until Galen suddenly barked with great self-importance, "I'll scout ahead!"

He spurred Kreig into a heavy-hoofed gallop, kicking up a dust trail as they ran a path between rocks. "So kind of him to keep an eye on the road ahead for us all." Alice commented airily, her eyes watching the bluffs that while once were distant were now stretching for the sky and almost threatening. The green plains of the far North of Snud had given way to the Boulder Fields, a realm of giant stones and dry terrain. At the edges, the fields were loose stones however the closer the Bluffs came, the tighter the boulder crops became, becoming high-walled paths. At that point there were many paths in the fields though only a few would take you where you wanted to go while the rest would lead you round in circles for days before depositing you back where you started. She'd read as much as possible about this place but had not come across a map that could give her a good path. Hopefully they hit a correct path on the first go.

"Caution, m'Lady Alice." Hart warned, carefully watching the area. Iracebeth hadn't drained Crims of blood before her reign had ended so saw no need to investigate Snud. Few people knew about the land but what tales did circulate told that it was a dry land, filled with scrub plants and ill-tempered flowers that bloomed on spiky towers of plants. Their favored hobby was to throw the needles of the towers at the eyes of passerbys. As he rather treasured his sight, he was highly alert for these spiked towers. "Unfortunately this leg of the journey is unfamiliar."

"Perhaps an arm would comfort you more?" Tarrant grinned. Hart gave him a flat stare. "A wrist instead then? Oh no, a knee, that's the one. Definitely a knee man, aren't you?" He laughed.

Alice giggled, wondering why Hart moved away from the Hatter...nearly flinched away from him, really, after giving him a rather strange look. It was as though he were suddenly incredibly uncomfortable. There was no animosity that she knew of and if anything the whole situation seemed to amuse the milliner. However Lowell suddenly came to a complete halt and thoughts of chasing down ideas disappeared. "Lowell?"

The bandersnatch sniffed at the air, short puffs of air that bordered on frantic. His eyes darted around, seeing past the two that had stopped a short way ahead of him. "Lowell?" Alice asked, slightly nervous as she stared at the top of the beast's head.

He went stock still for exactly six seconds before exploding forward as though his tail were on fire, breaking between Hart and Tarrant. A hunting howl split the air and Alice hunched down close to the bounding animal's back. With no reigns (she had won that argument with Mirana) the Champion was left to grip the dense fur and pray that Lowell didn't make any sharp turns or decide to plow through solid rock. His run made Hart's cat flinch back but Morgan reared and shrieked, bucking wildly and nearly throwing Tarrant from the saddle.

"Bloody hell...after her, you fool!!" Tarrant snarled at Hart, who was slightly dumbfounded by the sudden chaos.

Shaken back to the present, Hart jumped and spurred his mount after the beast. The initial leap cleared a boulder as large as the cat before heavy paws landed and began the pursuit. The cat hissed at Hart's heel-jabbing but kept up the run, long white body moving with sinuous grace around the tightening rock crops. Their passing flushed insects, reptiles, and birds from their hiding places where they had tried to settle after Lowell's very defined passage. Around them the Bluffs were beginning to grow, sounds echoing off the rocks and sounding eerily similar to screams. Hart swore through a growled command to hurry, his gut twisting behind his facade of anger. If that was Alice in trouble...he shuddered to think of the possibilities though his mind's eye was already envisioning a return trip with Alice's corpse. Somehow he didn't think he or Galen would survive to see what punishment Mirana could imagine. They cleared a dry, cracked stream bed and wound through the remnants of what was once a loose rock wall before catching up at last in a stone clearing.

Both huffing from the run, man and cat could only stare.

Galen was flat on the ground, gasping for breath and clutching to Kreig's reigns. Ten to fifteen feet away was Lowell, long tongue licking his great chops contentedly. Chaos abounded in the forms of small, oddly dress boars, at least a score of them, running as some attempted to calm strange-looking pack animals, others were putting out small fires, and still others were gathered before a standing Alice, stomping and snorting in a strange language at the Champion. She looked bewildered and embarrassed but unharmed. Confused, Hart dismounted and slowly made his way to Galen. Boars with the look of guardsmen and carrying spears watched him with bright black eyes, wary but at ease, their spears upright yet. "Galen. Galen! What the bloody hell is this?"

Holding his aching ribs with his free hand, Galen used the reigns to help himself sit upright. His face was bright red from laughter. "Oh you should have seen it, Harold! I found these fine fellows and we were having a chat when suddenly that brute came round the bend. Why they fled in all directions as though they'd never faced down a bumblestamp before! Well he made short work of the meals they were roasting and now they're mightily unhappy!"

Having never actually faced down a 'bumblestamp' before either, Hart couldn't blame their panic. Kreig snorted to gain the tall knight's attention. "Here comes the rest."

Cavalry mount and rider approached at a fast clip, kicking up a cloud of dust and stone as they stopped. Angry yellow eyes were ringed with orange as Tarrant surveyed the scene much too quickly. One could nearly see the math adding up badly in his mind. Even Galen caught onto it and scrambled to his feet, glancing between Hatter and Champion. The boar guards eyed him nervously, lowering their spears just enough to show threat, unsure of how to greet the new and increasingly agitated stranger.

Tarrant dismounted in a smooth motion, a hand on the hilt of the longsword strapped to Morgan's saddle. "Whut's this here? I'd be leavin' the lass alone if I were you." No one moved and Tarrant snarled, drawing the longsword. "I said git away from Alice!"

Cries of alarm went up and spears were lowered to a definitely aggressive stance. Hart's eyes flicked over to his mount...it would take too long to reach his weapons, perhaps he could take the Hatter down from behind? Galen had drawn his sword and made a run for Alice. The movement set the Hatter off and he charged which triggered the boars to rush him where Alice ran between them, charging the Hatter herself and throwing herself between him and the spears. "_Stop!!_"

Her command echoed off the rocks and everything came to a bewildered stop, even the pack animals were quiet in their surprise, looking down their soft muzzles at her. All eyes were on Alice, making her blush despite the danger of her predicament. Galen had stopped short of cutting down a guard and Hart was almost within reach of Tarrant's back, a rock in his hand. Slowly, Alice turned to regard Tarrant, finding that his eyes were melting back to green but they were still glaring hard at the boars, who grunted uneasily. "Tarrant..." she breathed, touching his chest and feeling the heart racing within.

"What is all this?!"

The new voice echoed, not quite as well as Alice's command, and though they understood it, a heavy accent was prominent. The owner was a boar, more ornately decorated than his fellows and with the mane atop his head gathered together to form an upright tail as though it were a badge of office. His small thumbs hooked in the wrap around his belly as he regarded each of them individually. After he had surveyed each of them, he wiggled his jaw and grunted. "I am Cortesia and this is my merchant train! Who are you!?"


	6. Chapter 6

It was silly, really.

After the dust settled, the camp had resumed a somewhat normal if a bit tense routine. Alice was invited to the merchant's tent and when she insisted that Tarrant accompany her, he had given her an odd look but otherwise assented to her condition. They had needed to duck slightly to enter the tent but the inside was very spacious and laid out with rugs and pillows. The three of them sat around a low-burning fire with a pot suspended over it which produced rather mouth-watering scents. Their host served them personally, seeing to their comforts before he finally settled on the other side of the fire from them. Which made it all the worse.

_You're a fully grown woman. Stop it._ Alice chided herself.

Cortesia was, as far as she could judge a boar, a very distinguished merchant. He spoke with a rich accent and his skills with the language were well-practiced, something about which he seemed to nearly burst with pride when Alice pointed it out. The short fur of his body was dark and smooth, growing longer on his jaw and longest on his chin, where it was combed to form a smooth triangular beard. He wore a swath of cloth over his middle, the material threaded with gold and silver and embroidered with elegant circular patterns on a background of deep violet and blue stripes. Wrapped around his neck and draping over his chest was another bit of the same cloth, this one lined with similar embroidery but from the front of his neck to where the drapery touched his stomach, interlocked metal plates had been sewn in, their golden surfaces polished to a reflective shine. Within the embroidered circles wrapping around the back of his neck were gold metal studs. All of it screamed of nobility.

Yet for all this, Alice had the most unseemly and nearly uncontrollable urge to reach over and bat at the upright tail on top of the boar's head. Her fingers nearly twitched with the cat-like urge!

Fortunately, their host seemed ignorant of her feline compulsions and sipped quietly from a simple cup of water. He'd explained that Alice and company had come across good fortune. He and his camp had been waiting for the rest of the caravan and would have been gone the next day, continued on their road. "Lady Alice, you say you are also seeking trade...yet you do not look like a merchant, you bring no wares with you, and you travel with two of the most ungainly knights I have ever seen!"

Alice smiled, trying to hold his dark eyes if only to avoid looking at the tail on his head. "Well, we are merely traveling more so than ready to trade at the moment. We are seeking to first establish a trade root, m'lord."

His ears shot upright and the dark rusted color of his snout seemed to flush. "Ah, Lady Alice you pay me too much respect. I am no lord!"

Her blonde head tilted curiously. "You certainly do look one...but if you are not, then how shall I call you?"

His snout wiggled and he scratched at a tusk. "Cortesia is fine, Lady Alice. I am merely a merchant. A wealthy one, certainly, but lordship has not been granted to me yet."

Alice nodded. "Very well then. I insist you call me Alice, then. There are already enough people calling me Lady." Her eyes glanced to Tarrant, who blinked innocently. He knew her lack of true status but insisted upon addressing her with a title above her station, as did many in Marmoreal who heard the tale of the Jabberwocky.

The exchange was lost on Cortesia, who smiled as though honored. "Very well then, Alice it shall be. If I may, is it safe to leave that beast you rode in on free without chain?"

"Lowell?" Alice clarified. "Oh, he's harmless." She stopped herself from slapping at Tarrant's arm when the milliner muttered under his breath.

"Once he has fed." Cortesia smirked.

She blushed. "Ah yes...my apologies again. I didn't realize he was quite that hungry to go and steal from a stranger's cook fire!"

He waved a hoof in dismissal of the concern. "As long as he does not eat any of the hands, we will be glad to share. Those fat lizards are plentiful in the shadows here."

"Where is your caravan headed?" Alice redirected, still stinging slightly from the mortification she'd suffered for Lowell's appetite. "Tarrant tells me that he does not recall seeing your train before and Witzend is just North of here."

"Ah but Witzend is not our goal." He smiled. "We go to the Outlands, as you call them, and trade with those on the other side of the mountains."

Tarrant watched them converse, almost able to see the wheels turning in Alice's mind. Her curiosity was pulling her in a thousand directions and he enjoyed watching it, feeling that her curiosity was her own brand of madness. It made him feel slightly better, even if his imaginings had no foundations. Would they divert course to follow Cortesia or perhaps turn South instead to the promises of Snud as the merchant explained the wealth of the arid land? So many possibilities, things to learn...temptation was no doubt ready to make Alice split herself into many Alices! At least she'd stopped staring at the boar's top-tail...Tarrant had been ready to slap at the tail just to stop Alice's fidgeting!

"...producers of wine?"

Green eyes blinked, and then again in slight alarm as the milliner realized the pair were looking at him and awaiting a response. "I'm sorry?"

"I was explaining to our host that Witzend produces the finest wines in Underland." Alice offered kindly, seeing no madness in him to her relief. Just distracted.

"And I was challenging her opinion." Cortesia grunted. "For Snud produces many fine wines to contest all others!"

Surely he must have been off in his musings for quite some time! Bloody Time...tails and foundations...he shook his head to order his thoughts. His eyes glanced between them with a nervous smile. "Ah well having not sampled a vintage from Snud in many, many years, I am afraid I could not offer a valid judgment. However I am always inclined to agree with my Lady's opinion."

Alice glared at his grin, knowing he was tweaking her with the title. Their host seemed to perk at it though, rising to his feet with a clap of his hooves and a brightness to his eyes as though having figured something out. "Oh, my apologies! I rarely come across others in my travels any more. Lady Alice, shall I wash your feet? Or would you prefer that your servant do so?"

Alice was instantly confused and a glance at Tarrant proved he was on the exact same line and page as she. "Wash my feet?" she inquired. Her mind danced around the term "servant" when used in reference to Tarrant.

The boar smiled and tapped his hooves together in delight. "Oh yes, it is an ancient custom with my people!"

Brown eyes narrowed slyly above a slow-stretching smirk when Alice looked to the Hatter. Their silent communication was flawless as he picked up immediately on her thoughts of revenge for his use of the title she would not claim, a scowl forming on his face. "Why, that sounds wonderful, Cortesia. I appreciate your offer however I think Tarrant will be more than able to do so. In the mean time, we can continue to speak of your trade route to Outland."

The merchant hurried off to retrieve the needed items and Alice's skin burned when Tarrant was suddenly much closer, his brogue rumbling quietly in the narrow space between his lips and her ear. "Seem to be gettin' very comfortable wid tha' unwanted title..._Lady_ Alice..."

She took a moment to breathe and lifted a hand to his face, stroking his cheek softly. "I thought you were ever at my disposal, my good Hatter. For anything."

His breath hitched sharply and was release in a slow exhale through his nose, eyes locked with her own. "Oh aye..." he growled, one of his hands resting on a booted calve.

Alice felt the warmth of his hand seep through the leather and, she swore, straight into her blood. He held her eye as she twisted to unfold her legs. When she was still, he began to slowly work the leather cuff down her leg, each brush of his fingertips and knuckles over her leg reminding him that mercury had made his skin incredibly sensitive. Every faint touch made Alice acutely aware of the Hatter's hands, her vision nearly tunneled upon their simple and slow motions; so very different from the fleet and sporadic motions they had while hatting. She met his eye, drinking in the dark green that stared back.

Tarrant bid his time, milking the moments for all they were worth as each was more than ten times its weight in gold to be there, causing that marvelous look of hesitation and want. He was calling her bluff, challenging her. Delightfully, she didn't seem inclined to back down. The sensations of his skin brushing between boot and her pant leg shot up his fingertips and straight into his nerves, drugging him somehow as he felt calmed and inflamed all at once. He could only imagine what real skin had the potential to do and then realized as her foot came free that he had a moment to find out. Without looking away, for surely he would have lost his nerve, he barely dipped his fingertips in the hollows created between the ankle and the thick tendon behind it.

Rosy skin flushed red and Alice was the first to look away, though not in time to disguise a gasp. She clutched her hand to her heart, feeling it race behind her ribs. Their game had gone too far again and she closed her eyes, feeling her body trying to right itself after the daring surprise delivered upon it. Surely her mother would have fainted dead away to see such a thing and Margaret would have scolded her within an inch of her life! The thought gave her pause and suddenly she laughed. She couldn't have helped herself to save her life. There she was, utterly free and yet still worrying about the opinions of family!

Her laughter stole the nervous giggle straight from Tarrant's chest and he could only suffer slightly for breath as his heart and mind tried to resume a normal pace. He held his hand as a fist, feeling the fingerpads tingle against his palm. At this rate Alice would have every inch of him in such a state before the year was out! He clamped down on the thought when it began to lead down paths best left untraveled just then unless he was looking to embarrass himself. Alice would not meet his eye though he imagined it to be not from shame as much as she needed a moment. Even though he did not share in all of her customs, she had been explaining pieces of her upbringing here and there (more there than here) so he had a vague grasp of the reasoning behind her reaction. It made his head hurt as much as it made him feel wonderfully devious and to the Hatter's great relief, Cortesia returned with a water-filled basin, a small sponge, and a rag. Tarrant accepted the items graciously, playing the part he was fitted for by the Champion, and unbuttoned his cuffs, rolling the sleeves a bit to avoid splashing them. With a half-smirking glance at the breathless Alice, he set to his assigned task with purely professional intent.

Alice managed to hold her conversation only by thinking about the ridiculous top-tail on Cortesia.

xxxx

As night fell, Cortesia insisted that Alice take his tent to rest and would not be denied despite her protests. However he and Tarrant nearly came to blows when the host attempted to usher the Hatter out. The man's color rose and Alice quickly stepped between them, smiling winningly at the boar. "I assure you, Cortesia, I am more than safe with Tarrant...as is my honor." She ignored the somewhat indignant squawk from the man at her back.

From over her shoulder, Tarrant glared down at the merchant. To insist he leave Alice alone in a stranger's abode, ridiculous! The boar grunted, unimpressed with the milliner's display. "As you will it, Lady Alice. My guards will be on shifts this night. You have but to call and the two at the door will attend to _any_ request."

He left with a graceful bow and turn, tail cutting the air in agitated slices. Alice sighed, grateful to whatever it was that made their host so quick to acquiesce to her requests. "Really Tarrant...!" she sighed while turning, seeking a where she might bed down for the night and contemplating a nest of pillows. There was no set sleeping area that she could see and now did not want to seem silly, calling Cortesia back just to ask. The boar already treated her like royalty, he might explode if she wanted to sleep in his bed!

The Hatter turned with confusion etched on his features. "What?" His face blanched as an idea struck him. "Should I leave as well, then? Did you wish to be alone and why wouldn't you? Traveling with three men, two suitors and one mad with two horses snipping comments in between then the bandersnatch to worry about and--."

Alice passed him in her idle exploration, brushing her fingertips under his jaw and effectively halting his rambling. It made her smile. She was getting use to what sway she had over him, having finally listened to Mirana a year after she decided to stay and determining the Queen was right about it. Though she was hesitant to fully embrace the ability, she was happy to know that she did not have to live in fear of him...only for him. "Don't be silly. You are my dearest friend, Tarrant." She paused and knelt to adjust the bed she was crafting. "Also..." Satisfied, she returned to him, catching him by surprise by slipping her arms around his ribs and giving him a tight hug. "You are my champion, yes?"

A heavy moment of silence settled before Tarrant responded. "Long as you'll have me, lass." he swore reverently, returning the embrace with euphoria tickling up and down his spine. _Alice_ had been the one to start the embrace rather than he hugging her first! Invisible raw wounds of yesteryear healed over and he found a space of peace within his soul. Gratitude welled in him until it threatened to create tears.

She lingered as long as she dared to taunt her sensibilities, feeling cherished in a way few men had accomplished in her life. Exhaustion pulled at her, though, and she refused to blush as she drew back, smiling up at him. "Thank you."

"For washing you feet?" he smirked, graciously moving them away from the moment .

"That as well." Alice laughed.

Like ribbons of satin, she slipped from his fingers and he stood still; rooted as he watched her. Crazy thoughts that he could perhaps survive seeing Witzend and walking Iplam prodded at him. To her thoughts of healing the land, Hatter had no doubts. Alice brought him stillness, sanity, salvation...surely she could bring the same to all of Underland! _Words beginning with S..._

"Tarrant? Are you going to sleep standing up?"

He blinked and shook his head, smiling at the concern in her expression before crafting a loosely made bed of his own. As much as he would have enjoyed continuing that embrace all night, the game had reached its limit and he would have to be content with them having nudged the line a little further. When he settled, he did not sleep until he heard her breathing even out, his body resting within a protective bandersnatch's paw swipe.

xxxx

"You see here? These thin, spiny leaves? They are signs that..."

Tarrant sniggered, coughing into a fist when Hart glared at him from the left.

"So...when we reach the sandy paths like this one..."

The Hatter giggled as quietly as possible, composure threatening to collapse completely when Galen, at his right, turned red and drew his sword, examining it for the fourth time in twenty minutes while muttering under his breath.

Around the three, boars and pack animals alike watched the trio in confusion. Towards the front of the train, Alice and Cortesia rode in blissful ignorance of the minor drama behind them, the latter point out how to find the correct paths through the rock maze of the Fields. Alice interjected here and there for clarity's sake but otherwise made what notes she could. That morning, Tarrant was enjoying the scalding envy of the knights, both of them knowing he had stayed tucked away with Alice, alone, all night. The jealousy was nearly palpable and fed Tarrant's ego; a taste sweetened since they could not flat-out ask what had happened without appearing crass.

To avoid a scene, he focused on the strange animals instead. The hands and guards had explained that they were called "Gangans", a chimeric mix of camel, raptor, snake, and ibix. They were large and barrel-bodied with the hind legs and hump of a camel, the arms and dexterous grip of a raptor, and a neck that was disturbingly flexible like a snake. Their heads were camel-like with a raised hump of flesh between nose and eyes, ridged with a bony scaling. A purple and pronged tongue flicked from furred lips and pale, curved horns of bone flared back from behind their eyes. The older the Gangan, the longer their horns and several of the caravan bore long mantles, each decorated with tassels and bells. Their heads came above Lowell's height but their long legs and barrel-bodies meant they moved slow and steady, each step carefully balanced in both normal walking and with the loads they carried.

The boars rode the Gangans using specially crafted saddles, called terik, that sat above the shoulders of the beasts, allowing their hooves to hang above the sinuous necks. Each saddle appeared hand-crafted and decorated for the individual, all of them countable as works of art. The tradesmen themselves were an interesting sight. The tallest boar was no higher than mid-thigh to Alice and they all appeared to be naturally pot-bellied, some wrapped in more coverings and others bearing only simple loins. The guards were dressed almost unanimously in black linen, bearing their spears, swords, and pride with quiet grace that loaned them respect and doubt from the human knights...doubt, that is, that they actually wanted to fight them. Before they were underway, Galen had actually challenged three at once to a sword match and been dumped on his ass four times in a row before he was forced to assent to them.

"M'lord?"

It took a moment before Tarrant realized he was being spoken to, his head twisting around until he located the boar that had requested his attention. "Aye?" he lifted a brow. The boars thusfar had tended to avoid him, possibly due to the wild intensity of his hair color or because the knights had been confirming that he was indeed a mad man.

His inquisitor seemed to be young, judging only by the lack of wrinkles on his muzzle and his too-short chin hairs. "M'lord...is it true what they say?" He nodded towards Galen and Hart, who had ridden slightly ahead of Tarrant as though they could physically bar the Hatter from Alice. "That the Lady Alice is a dragon-slayer? We had heard tales, whispers on the wind, that a great evil had been struck down in the North."

Tarrant's expression softened and brightened at once. "Oh aye, lad. I'm no' sure 'bout dragons but up wid yer leader rides the only slayer of the Jabberwocky, the most foul and evil beast t'ever fly the sky!"

"Wonderful!" the boar squealed, tugging his reigns to drop back with two of his friends, where they muttered excitedly with each other.

Word of the story's confirmation spread like fire down the merchant train and by the time they made camp that night, this one much less permanent, Alice was forced to regale an enrapt audience, by far her largest yet, with the story of her victory over the Jabberwocky. The knights watched her with unwavering steadiness, Galen appearing child-like in his absorption of the tale while Hart seemed more sad and focused, his mind consuming the side of the tale he had not been privileged to. Watching him and this new expression managed to make Alice accept the fact that Hart was not Stayn; his two-faced black heart would never have been moved to regret. She made a mental note to be less cold to the knight.

The evening meal passed with song and tales, the boars proving to be quite the entertainers. Even Lowell seemed charmed by them, his usual gruff attitude softened by treats of large lizard ribs and flanks. They taught their guests a word or two of the native language, laughing when Alice had difficulties and applauding Hart for grasping the inflections perfectly. At once point, Alice lost sight of the Hatter only to have him appear a few minutes later with Cortesia, the two men apparently having settled whatever disagreements were between them. "What was that about?" she asked quietly as he sat beside her.

"Just a discussion about Outland, m'lady." he smiled charmingly.

Her eyes narrowed slightly at that but she let it go, figuring she could get the truth, or the full truth, when she wanted to. When the boars produced jugs of alcohol, she quietly slipped away and found Lowell, who greeted her enthusiastically, almost slapping Kreig with his tail. The warhorse snorted and grumbled as he moved off to find a safer place to sleep. Alice smiled and soothed the bandersnatch with voice and touch, rubbing his ears and scratching the heavy shoulders. "Time for some sleep, my friend. Don't go running off in the night, hm?"

He grmphed at the accusation and the ground shook just slightly as he plopped bonelessly upon it. Alice giggled and since it was a nice night, she sat upon the ground and leaned back against Lowell's side, looking up at the stars through the winding spaces of the Bluffs. That was how Tarrant found her later, the Champion having fallen asleep against the bandersnatch's side and protected within the ring of the beast's tail. Lowell stirred as Tarrant approached, growling lowly. The Hatter glared at him, crossing his arms. "Keep on like that and you'll wake her, silly beast! I just want to throw a blanket over her so be a good bandersnatch and go back to sleep!"

Lowell did not go back to sleep but he did quiet down, his nose recognizing the silly man that made his mistress happy. She brought more of his scent with her every time and Lowell would have confessed to a touch of jealousy, could he speak. He did not fully trust anyone with his mistress, did not like her giving her time to anyone else, but she was generous and he hated to see her sad. So if the silly man made her happy, he could tolerate him. Still, his gray eyes watched the Hatter as he unlatched Alice's bedroll from Lowell's tack and then gently draped the blanket over Alice as much as he could.

"The nights are fine and warm here but you cannot be too careful." Tarrant smiled, patting Lowell's side.

The bandersnatch whuffed a sigh but did not retaliate for the touch, either too tired or convinced that the silly man was correct and any fierce showing would disturb his mistress. He watched the Hatter walk back towards the others before settling in again, his tail swinging out just a little wider, nostrils wide as he drifted off.

xxxx

Hart could sing.

And on this morning, did so as loudly as possible; jovially teaching boars the words that they might join in. His grin was surprisingly infectious for him being such an imposing figure and it was all because Galen rode Kreig like a man on a death march. The poor knight was hungover beyond sense, his high consumption of a rust-colored alcohol made exclusively in Snud having made him regret ever befriending the boars. Hart had met him drink for drink however he was a much larger man than Galen and the impact had been far less...after breakfast Hart felt better than ever.

"I am going to _kill_ you all..." Galen snarled, leaning precariously on Kreig's neck. "...as soon as I can stand."

The threat brought a round of uproarious laughter before the singing started again. Kreig merely sighed. He'd seen his moronic knight through worse than this and would do so again with all the pride he could muster. Though the alcohol on the man's breath smelled terrible...almost enough to make Kreig wish he were Morgan, the young stallion prancing about and putting on show for the Champion as she rode that bloody evil beast.

"Truly it is green fields as you say? Rolling pastureland?" Morgan danced around Lowell, excited about the next leg of the journey.

"Those were some of the last reports out of Witzend, yes." Alice confirmed, glancing to Tarrant in concern.

The Hatter could hardly keep the stallion still and was too focused on the task to be sad about the possibilities of destruction to his homeland. "Bloody horse, be still or she'll twist her head off trying to keep track of you!"

A final leap over a vengeful snap of the annoyed bandersnatch's tail and Morgan settled into a steady pace, huffing for breath and speaking in a rush. "It will be so nice after all these rocks and this sand and things that bite not to mention those evil spiked plants!"

Alice smiled. Morgan had come close to getting a bevy of spikes when he'd curiously approached a thatch of the spiked towers which Cortesia had explained were called cactus or cacti. Morgan now just called them cantankerous! "It will be nice but our friends have been kind enough to offer to guide us to the Bluff archway before continuing on their way and we must move at their pace."

He tossed his chestnut mane, hooves rising a little higher off the ground and annoying Tarrant with the new bounce in his gait. His eyes studied the fine mane for a moment before a smirk twisted his lips. Alice watched with an increasing urge to laugh as Tarrant swiftly braided a dozen bright ribbons into the surly stallion's mane. "There you are! Pretty as the spring for when we arrive at your grassy haven!"

Morgan's head twisted and he coughed, aghast. "Oh get those out right now! I am a _stallion_, not some pink and purple pony!" The Hatter refused the demanded and Morgan began to buck, causing havoc among the Gangan. Kreig ran up to scold him but upon seeing the ribbons he began to laugh, a deep belly laugh that made him fall to the ground. Galen avoided a broken leg only by a mix of training and hung-over stupor.

"Bloody horse!" the knight yowled, clutching his aching head but not bothering to rise. He'd rolled into a nice shady patch and the cool rocks felt marvelous against his face.

Alice watched Tarrant with worry as Morgan bucked about like a wild colt yet it seemed she didn't have much to worry for. Tarrant kept his seat, his grip, and (amazingly) his hat while the boars and Hart worked on subduing the horse. It took several minutes but at last Morgan wore himself down and Tarrant dismounted, growling something in the stallion's ear while removing the ribbons. Once de-ribboned and freed of any restraining ropes, Morgan approached Alice and snorted, dropping into a bow. "Apologies m'lady. That was rude and unprofessional of me."

"You're...forgiven, o-of course...." Alice offered awkwardly, again put into a position and status she felt she had not earned. The stallion rose but his head hung and Alice quickly dismounted, Lowell obligingly dropping a shoulder to ease her descent. "Come now, you can't possibly see where you are while watching the dirt!" She lifted the long face and kissed his muzzle, which perked him up immediately.

She also followed Hart to help poor Galen onto his feet, the knight stubbornly clutching the plate of rock that had been easing his headache and keeping it pressed to his head. Slowly, the caravan regrouped and after a bit more shuffling, they were underway yet again, the spirits of the horses lighter, Galen feeling a touch better, and Hart still singing (though softer).

xxxx

By midday they reached the archway they sought and Alice's company parted from Cortesia's caravan. The parting was jovial and full of promises to communicate if for nothing else than mutually beneficial trade relations. Before her goodbye, she had glanced up at the forbidding range of the Outland Crags and then to her new friend as though he were a bit on the mad side himself. "You're going over those Crags with the Gangan and their soft feet?"

He had blinked in confusion. "Oh absolutely not! It is possible, of course. But the mountains are home to the _spei_ and only the foolish or desperate travel those ways. We move through underground tunnels. Far safer and faster."

_Spei_. Alice frowned at the word, recalling Chess' warning. "Cortesia, what or who is a _spei_? This is not the first warning I've received about them."

The boar thought on it for a moment, gathering the right words. "Spei are demons, Lady Alice. Little demons that burrow through the rock and attack unsuspecting travelers. They are found in all mountainous or rocky regions, like the paths we just wandered." At the widening of her eyes, he held his hooves up. "Ah but they are only active when the rock is wet, usually only at night, and not in the deeper rock. The paths are dry now and safe to wander. When the rains come and the paths begin to flood, we will not travel this way. The Gangan are tall and strong enough to ford the floods but the spei would destroy the caravan."

She had nodded, finding that it was possible to fear a pile of rocks. With their goodbyes, she was still puzzling over the spei, yet another item for her mind to work out while traveling. When regarding the archway, Alice discovered it was more of a tunnel, cutting through a thick bluff and creating a somewhat dense channel of air between the warm air of the Grampus Bluffs and the cool air of Witzend. The air was not wet...just heavy, much like the air before a thunderstorm.

"We will need to have another way here..." she murmured to herself, imagining that someone might attempt to destroy the natural pathway. Cortesia's caravan had to double-back to get to Outland, meaning there was a passageway somewhere reasonably close. She didn't want to lose out on any opportunities.

They moved slowly into the natural rock tunnel, reflective light making torches unneeded. The distance was short but each step seemed to move in slow motion, making Alice wonder about the Yadder Stone Bridge so far from here. Perhaps the stones were cut from this tunnel? Yet it seemed to be just her imagination for they were through the tunnel in minutes and facing the glorious spread of Witzend. The Crags loomed to the West but the green, lush lands rolled and stirred in the breeze, looking utterly untainted...as though Iracebeth's reach had never been able to stretch this far. A dark patch in the East hinted at the Tulgey Wood and Crims was not even visible at this point. It was beautiful.

She was about to speak when she looked to her companions and saw Tarrant, the man's face a study in controlled emotion, save for the tears rolling down his cheeks. "We will stop here for today..." she uttered, so softly it could have been the wind.


	7. Chapter 7

_Some quick notes: _

_Remember that plaid is pronounced "played"._

_My thanks to fugazi71, I would have missed the chance develop her!_

_I had a few blocks on this one. I'll be reviewing it in a couple of days to see if anything needs to be changed._

_All mistakes are mine._

_On wid ye!_

xxxx

Night on the edge of Witzend made the party feel as though Time had passed them by; caught in a gap between moments. Galen had taken Alice's words as heaven-sent, gratefully taking the time to recover from his hang-over. To the great relief of all, "recovery" involved some tea and a lot of sleep. Hart tended to the mounts, except for Lowell, and when their comforts were assured, he had settled by the fire, staring almost vacantly into the blaze. Alice had spoken to him a few times as evening had settled and he seemed happy to receive her compliments and smile about his skill in turning an otherwise bland travel soup into something palatable.

For her part, Alice tried to keep herself busy, studying notes and tending to Lowell. The bandersnatch was unusually quiet, though, as though he knew not all was well. Every conscious eye flicked towards Tarrant on occasion, who had isolated himself away from the fire's light and taken a seat facing the land of his birth. Even Hart, who tended to keep his distance from the Hatter, had been moved by the emotional unease and had quietly set a bowl of soup and a chunk of bread beside the man. Tarrant had not stirred, either to thank him or to accept the food. Shortly after the sun set, Alice was running out of notes and reading by the fire's light was beginning to make her head hurt. With a sigh, she set her work aside and looked to Hart, studying him instead.

He was not unattractive by far...merely a bit travel worn at this stage, as they were all becoming. Alice was ready to throw herself and Lowell into the first stream they came across if only to feel clean again. The scruff of Hart's jaw had become a dark five-o'clock shadow that he had not bothered to shave. Galen tended to his face with the devotion of a man that had been trained all his life. Hart seemed much more...organic. From a lack of washing, his black hair was greasy but he did manage to pass a comb through it and tame it back in a very short tail, leaving his face open to Alice's introspection. She couldn't fully trust it by the fire's light but his eyes seemed to be a warm shade of brown, the color usually dimmed to a more forbidding tone during the day as his brow was furrowed in concentration. Overall, were it not for his bizarrely tall stature, he was quite handsome and, after closer study, reminded Alice of a breed of young man in London; the wild sort that gave no heed to the match-making wishes of their mothers and wandered in bawdy freedom.

"Can I assist you with something, m'lady?"

Caught staring, Alice blushed faintly and smiled in embarrassment. "Oh, no, not really. Was just off in my head."

He smiled faintly. "Careful you don't wander too deep."

The implied _or else_ reminded Alice of Tarrant and she sighed, forcing herself to not glance at the man again. Worried or not, she knew that sometimes one needed the privacy of their own thoughts and this time she was going to follow her own advice. For as long as possible anyway. "What do you think of this whole venture, sir knight? Is it worth your time?"

Dark eyes blinked and Hart was very much in the present as he thought about how best to answer her. It was wonderful that she would now talk to him without another chaperoning the conversation, he didn't want to botch it! "My opinions are moot, m'lady. My responsibility and purpose is to keep you safe on the journey."

Her brow furrowed. Wrong answer apparently. "Surely you are not so one-dimensional? You came just because Queen Mirana asked you to?"

His face flushed slightly and he scratched at the shadow on his face. "Erm...well, as she explained Galen and I are her finest knights, save for the White Knave who guards the Queen personally, and we were glad to be given a mission of such prestige."

She continued to coax. "So it is only for the prestige then? Another notch to your belts?"

"M'lady!" Hart gawked. Alice had been spending too much time among the pawns to be speaking as such! She merely stared at him, challenging. "I cannot speak for Galen however I was certainly glad to take this mission as it was not only a wonderful proving opportunity however it gives me th...ch..." he fumbled abruptly, posture slumping like a shy boy as he scratched at his jaw again.

Alice fought of a smile, feeling quite predatory and enjoying her moment of having backed the knight into a bit of a corner. Her brown furrowed in a mockery of concern. "I'm sorry, I didn't understand that last part."

He fidgeted for a minute before his motions smoothed into calmness, his voice quiet and resigned. "It gives me the chance of forgiveness...hopefully."

It threw Alice completely off the scent she'd been following, landing her squarely in an awkward position. "Forgiveness?" she parroted.

"Yes." Hart closed down to her, retreating within to nurse old wounds. His long body rose smoothly from the ground and he dusted himself off. Ice replaced resignation in his voice and he was again the distant knight she akinned to Stayn. "Pray that the scouts were correct, m'lady...and that your training was thorough. Salazen Grum was home to more evil than that which was cast out. Evils that even Time will not touch."

More cryptic talk. First Cheshire and now Hart...she was getting quite fed up with these half-spoken riddles! However Hart had abandoned her for his mount, leaving Alice with her own thoughts...which directed her straight back to Tarrant. No longer distracted, her mind was again free to worry and wonder and torment her. A full eternity of three minutes passed before she was on her feet and walking slowly for her friend...the Hatter making no move to acknowledge her.

That simply would not do anymore.

"Tarrant?" she called, setting a hand on his shoulder.

He was still for a minute before a stained hand rose and covered her own. "Sorry lass...I just keep waiting for it..."

Progress! She knelt beside him, retrieving her hand to grasp the cooled soup and bread. "You should eat."

"Ach!" he dismissed the food. "D'you see it, Alice? See the beauty and the peace?"

"I do..." she agreed, setting the food aside and settling more comfortably beside him, appreciating the view as lit by the moon. "What are you waiting for, my good Hatter?"

He smiled and his eyes closed, face turning from the valley for the first time as he turned towards Alice; green eyes bright when they opened and his voice broken. "I've been waiting for it to disappear...waiting for tha' bloody beast to fly over the mountains and burn it all." His smile wavered but held while he licked his lips and looked back to the valley. "But it doesn't....it stays green and quiet and peaceful." Yellow trickled into his irises when he returned his gaze to Alice, desperation cracking his voice. "_Why_ doesn't it burn, Alice? Why does it stay there and _live _to torture me?"

"Oh Tarrant..." Alice's heart ached for him and she cupped his face, brushing away tears with her thumbs. She rose up and kissed his forehead lingeringly, her voice soft. "It is _real_, my friend. Every blade of grass you see is real and alive." His arms came around her in a fierce embrace and she closed her eyes, feeling contentment well within her at the strength of his hold, in the breath against her neck, in the hope that she fed him with her presence. This was not their game, not a test of lines and limits, no challenge...this was pure comfort and her will to fix a broken man's dreams.

Together they remained in silent support, Time having no relevance to either for once. However at length an idea sprouted in Alice's mind, found roots and grew until she was smiling with its promises. She drew back from the man, her smile remaining as she stood, taking Tarrant's hands in her own. "Come with me."

He stood as though having just recently learned to walk again, unbalanced while he followed the pull of her hands. His mind was quiet, consumed with nothing beyond Alice until she left the shelter of the archway. When she attempted to drag him into the open with her, his body remained rooted to the dry earth. "Tarrant?" she waited, still holding his hands. Voices roared in his mind and surely there was a gleam of desperation in his eyes for Alice came to his rescue, stroking his face and smiling in such a way that would have soothed the most panicked child. "Trust me."

Her hands slid down his arms and then into his own, twining their fingers together and pulling gently as she backed away. At first an inch and then a step at a time, Tarrant moved; stepping into the present and finding that the reality of Witzend silenced each voice in turn, drawing him into his own Wonderland. Alice's spirits soared higher with each step he took towards her, further into the land he had lost so long ago, and she began to laugh. Excitement that they had finally reached Witzend coupled with the growing look of joy on Tarrant's face filled the Champion with unbridled happiness and she released Tarrant's hands, spinning in the cool air and grinning up at the stars. "It's marvelous, Tarrant!"

The severed connection made him stop cold for a moment, panic bubbling before he told himself that it was real, it was okay. Alice was here...she would not lead him astray, even as a vision. And if so, well...this was a better Hell to be trapped in than any of the others that had been visited upon him! He fell to his knees, fingers threading through the cool grass, palms feeling the dirt scrape against them. His nose could smell the scents of earth and water, skin able to feel the faint breeze of the night, his ears heard the music of insects. The moon made him cast a shadow and draped Alice in a thousand highlights such that it made him want to weep. Instead he stood and laughed, laughed with pure joy. "It...it's real!" he gasped, looking more vibrant than he had in days.

"Yes, and we are here!" Alice skipped up to him, gave him a brief hug, and snatched his hat straight off his head, dashing away wearing both it and a grin.

"Oh lass you're askin' for trouble the likes of which th' Jabberwocky would've trembled at!" he growled, giving chase.

Watching from the mouth of the archway, Hart smiled and shook his head. He shifted the javelin sitting at his side, retrieved should a night-predator take a liking to the joyful taunts and screams of the pair dashing about like mad fools. He had fair hopes of at least beginning to woo Alice on the journey however as he kept vigil, he watched those hopes dissolve before him. "Ah well...for the best perhaps, eh Nari? We only need one mad man on this journey."

From behind him, his panther sneezed and flicked an ear, rolling onto her opposite side to warm her belly at the fire. She tried to stay out of the affairs of humans, silly creatures that they were.

xxxx

Seemingly as unpredictable as the son that held it dear, Witzend greeted them with a rain storm the following day. After everyone woke, they had lingered at the stone mouth for an hour while Alice attempted to gather her thoughts enough to give a verdict. Refreshed after a half-day of sleeping off his hangover, Galen was his genial and chatty self once more, chatting up Alice without thought to the monosyllabic responses. The Champion had hardly slept the previous night, kept restless with night terrors real enough to send her to her feet in only half-consciousness. Hart's words and the approach of Iplam chewed on the edges of her mind throughout the evening and she could not sway the omens with the warm thoughts of only hours prior. Too preoccupied, she had not noticed the clouds until Galen woke and made comment.

At last, Alice had sighed heavily and decided that for want of lost time, the party would press on and hope the rains were transient. Gathering their cloaks around themselves, Alice morosely jealous of Tarrant's tartan plaid, they turned into the waves of water and rolling fog, putting the crafts of Marmoreal to the test. Galen had made comment that it at least was not windy and a general murmur of agreement went around before silence descended in seeming respect to Alice's dour mood. It was true that the wind did not blow however the rain was dense and visibility was cut down so they moved painfully slowly, Galen and Hart taking turns scouting short distances ahead. The mounts bore it with as much grace as possible, Hart's panther unseating him once or twice when she shook herself vigorously only to snarl at the knight when he snapped at her. Lowell thankfully had no such compulsion, his broad paws keeping his bulk from sinking, and Alice caught herself napping in the saddle once or twice.

They pressed on this way for a solid three hours before the rains abated and the clouds abruptly fizzled off. Cloaks were shed and eyes blinked at the presence of full light. With it, Hart was the one to stop the party, nearly ripping the saddle off his panther and growling at her to scout ahead on her own. Annoyed with her rider, the cat closed the distance between her and the man and shook herself a final time before snorting at him and sprinting off. "Goddamn cat..." Hart growled through his teeth, squeezing water from his hair.

"Seems you two compliment each other well." Tarrant commented airily, having dismounted in the attempt to wring the water from his plaid. It had kept him warm but not entirely dry, though that was the least of his concerns. He raised a brow at Morgan. "Want to run around with a cape for a while?" Dark eyes narrowed at the milliner and Morgan's ears snapped back, lip twitching. Tarrant sighed and folded the fabric, quietly hoping there would be a good tree or perhaps he could convince Hart to hold his arm out to one side for a few hours. The thought made him snigger.

"Nari is...temperamental." Hart decided, feeling his skin itching where it was half dry under his shirt and mail. "She takes great pride in her job but has difficulty taking orders in the manner of horses." Morgan snorted and Kreig's tail twitched. "No offense meant, of course." His hands moved in a placating gesture as he removed his gloves.

A "fap" sounded as Galen untied and snapped his cloak to the side to rid it of excess water. "Why you ride that ridiculous beast, I'll never know. Horses are the only mounts worth the time, Hiccup!" He sniffed at his cloak and made a face. "Mmf...rain is wonderful but I could do with a true bath right now."

"Couldn't we all?" Alice grumbled softly, Lowell glancing back at her. This was by far the longest she'd ever gone without a bath, including childhood fits of rebellion, and she found that it was a luxury she was missing. Exhaustion was making her irritable and nauseous and she pulled her cloak off and bundled it up before her, leaning upon it like a pillow. The bandersnatch's breath rumbled like a purr as he maintained a hunter's stillness, almost daring someone to challenge his mistress' rest.

"Could certainly stand to wash the smell of horse off!" Galen patted Kreig as though to soften his words.

Kreig tossed his mane, unappeased. "Ah yes, I too could stand to have the stench of human scrubbed from my fur."

"Stench?" Galen scowled. "I do not have a...a..._stench_!" He sniffed at himself. "I smell like a _man_ you silly creature!"

"A barbarian, perhaps."

"_Barbarian!_"

"You all stink of sweat and stress!" Nari snarled, returning from her scouting run. The snow-white panther was slightly off color from dust and mud but her golden eyes were keen as ever. She'd chosen to avoid as much speaking as possible on this trip to try and make her life easier but it seemed inevitable when her nose had just about had enough of Galen's "manly" scent mixed with the sweat of horses...not to mention Lowell. Then there was that godawful scent that the milliner was toting around with him. If her rider hadn't been adverse to the Hatter on principle, Nari would have ridden as far away as possible anyway! The rain had been a blessing to her nose and she had found another for them all. "There is a homestead not two miles ahead. Upon mention of the Champion, they nearly insisted that we impose upon them. They are readying hot water."

With Alice's title brought up, eyes went to her, only to find that she was asleep atop a very, very alert bandersnatch. Lowell's nostrils flared when their focuses shifted to his mistress and he stood just a little more upright, emphasizing the bear part of his physiology. "Ahem...I think it would be best we move along for now. He will follow..." Tarrant offered with a hesitant smile, not at all sure about his idea.

"He will." Nari turned tail, waiting while Hart re-saddled and mounted up.

Hart and Nari went first, followed by Kreig and Galen. Lowell didn't move until the silly man began to ride after them. If there were a sight to be seen in all of Underland that day, one would have paid to see the massive, legendary, ferocious bandersnatch attempting to follow three men with such a careful and smooth stride as though carrying priceless glass upon his back.

xxxx

"'Alt an' clear yer pockits of all lint before y'come in!"

The greeting they received was by far the strangest yet...if not ever. The Lamonts, as Nari explained it was the Lamont stead, met them a short ways from their home, Mr Lamont standing slightly hunched beside his wife. He had a working man's tan and a jaw that was beginning to soften with age. His clothing was that of a rancher however the thread-work was exceptionally detailed and elaborate, making him seem more than he was. A head of russet hair bore streaks of gray yet his physique hinted that he was not too old to fight off intruders yet. The party glanced at once another at the demand, only one having ever heard it before. The three, for Alice woke when they stopped, watched as Tarrant dismounted and strode up to the man, his equal in height, and turned his pockets inside out, brushing the lint away before tucking them back in.

Baffled, Alice was none the less quick to pick up on the requirements and slid off Lowell's side, imitating the Hatter's motions to a T. She received a brilliant smile from Mrs Lamont and a smaller one with a polite nod from Mr Lamont. As Hart and Galen moved to do the same, Alice whispered to Tarrant. "What is all that about?"

"Old tradition." He replied softly, his brogue coming more frequently in his homeland. "You clear away th' lint t'show tha' you are hiding no ill will from yer hosts, you are honest down to th' seams of yer pockets."

She imagined it was similar to being honest to the pits of one's soul or heart, though the Underland version was strangely more practical. With the formality set aside and their hosts appeased, it seemed they were ready however Alice excused herself, asking only for a bar of soap, a rag or towel, and directions to either a trough of water or a lake. The items were given without hesitation but certainly with confusion. As Alice led Lowell away to bathe him, Tarrant gallantly explained it to their hosts.

xxxx

Ridding Lowell of tack was always the easy part. A few loosened straps and a good shake and he would be free. Getting it back on him or moving it was always the detested part for the Champion. Eighty pounds of tooled leather and metal was a bit beyond her capacity and in her exhaustion, she was content to let the items sit. They seemed to be in a safe location, though she couldn't always tell for sure, and she just wanted food and rest. Though she had no appetite, her stomach growled at her for skipping breakfast. Lowell had growled back at it while Alice had been scrubbing the bandersnatch down, which made her giggle. On a devious impulse, Alice had looked around and ensured Lowell hid any view of her from the homestead before she simply stripped and washed off right there. While hot water sounded marvelous, she was more consumed with the idea of rest and didn't want to risk drowning herself.

A simple dress (Oh how the dressmakers had thrown a _fit_ about her request!) and a few words to Lowell to behave and Alice was returning to the house, entering as Galen was finishing the tale of the Jabberwocky. Alice accepted a drink with a sense of gratitude to the knight. She was not in story-telling form by far! The Lamonts told them of how word had flown out by bird and flower that the Jabberwocky was fallen and Iracebeth's reign was at an end. Galen vanished to bathe as Tarrant appeared, looking quite refreshed and wearing his bag of spools on his belt. To Alice's amusement and endearment, the cat-pin was threaded into the left side of Tarrant's shirt, hidden partially by his collar. Without the courtly makeup, the Hatter seemed younger, his eyes brighter, and the time traveled showing in his skin tone.

"Aldea?"

Alice blinked, shaking her head softly as she came out of her musings at Tarrant's surprised tone. By the expressions around the room and the fact that both Hart and Galen were now present and bathed, she imagined she'd been out of it for quite some time. Now they were on to a heavier topic. She tried to not sigh and avoided thinking about the fact that it was still only just after midday.

"Aye...birds say things're changin' out tha' way." Mrs Lamont nodded, grasping her husband's hand. "Can't say if it's for worse or better."

"What is Aldea?" Alice asked, annoyed that she felt behind and then further annoyed that she was annoyed! Exhaustion beat at her body with invisible fists and she was losing quickly.

"Aldea is my home." Tarrant responded stiffly. "But it is off the path you wished to travel so it is of no concern."

"Don't be silly, Terrance!" Galen waived a hand dismissively. "If it is your home we shall beeline to it to see where we can help!"

_Bloody knight and his chivalry...names and numbers....twelve hats and five pins...N...words with..._Tarrant's jaw clenched. "It is, of course, our Champion's decision as to whether or not we deviate from her road."

All eyes turned to Alice, who attempted to remember that she was a cultured young woman brought up in reasonably high English society. A baleful glare wanted to settle on her face but it was with great effort that she managed to clear her throat and reply as genially as she could. "I did say I wanted to see your homeland, Tarrant..."

She winced for a second, realizing too late that the wording sounded a touch too personal for the role Tarrant was playing. Galen and Hart cleared their throats and pretended to have not heard her while Tarrant delivered a look to her that said he would rather take a kick in the chest from Kreig than travel where she suggested. "A...M'lady...I..."

"We are going." Alice rose and stated definitively, her voice flat and unarguable. Tarrant's face was a mix of fear, pain, anger, and surprise that she would be so...so...above him about it! It made her heart hurt and her head hurt even worse so she looked to her hosts, offering what she hoped was a pleasant smile. "My apologies but I must excuse myself as I have a splitting headache. Might there be a place where I could rest?"

Mrs Lamont jumped up to show Alice to where she could relax. Tarrant stared at the tabletop, lips pressed into a line, and tried to find a laugh. Yet for all the noise and possibilities in his head, he only seemed to be able to find tears fit for a boy and those he could not let fall.

xxxx

The Lamonts graciously helped to restock the party as best they could and supplied an evening meal for them, which Hart happily helped with and worked some of their restocked provisions back into. Alice managed to wake for supper and found that the meal improved her mood, and headache, greatly. The only fault she could find was that Tarrant did not remain for the meal. He took his food outside, with profound thanks to the Lamonts, and Alice as the guest of honor could not follow him without being very rude. It worked out fine for the milliner.

By the waning moonlight, Tarrant ate slowly, his eye locked on the cat-pin. In the shadow of his chest and shoulders, the vial of blood dangled, glowing with a low phosphorescence. "And what is _your_ purpose, hm?" he chuckled quietly at the pin.

"Some would say cats have no purpose. Beyond driving others round the bend, that is."

He sighed, tucking the vial and key back into his shirt. "Hello Chess."

"You're unusually serious tonight, Tarrant."

"Did the palace start to bore you?"

Paw prints appeared in the dirt before Tarrant's feet, the prints tracking back and forth. "Oh no, it's much too much fun in there! I was just dropping by to ensure Alice took my advice about the spei."

"Advice?" Tarrant's eyes narrowed, his eyes tracking the paw prints as though he were actually looking at Cheshire through he knew the cat could verily be anywhere.

A purr. "Oh yes. I imagined she might be tempted to turn towards Outland instead of keeping on the path North, silly girl that she is."

"Curious, is what she is." he frowned, flipping the pin through his fingers with uncanny skill. His fist closed around the cat motif when he stopped.

"Curiouser and Curiouser..." Chess chuckled to himself, at last making an appearance...as a head. His paws appeared and still tracked in the dirt before the Hatter. "Curious about all the land and what it holds...and a curious person in general. Her strangeness has never put you off?"

"Oh aye...in past years. But she has become an Underlander now."

"Has she?" his grin stretched, ears twitching while his head rolled as though on a semi-circular ramp. Tarrant eyed him malevolently. "What about the blood, Hatter? That precious little vial you hold so dear?"

"What of it?" If anyone else would know the purpose, surely it would be Cheshire! Though relying on his information was always a risk. "If you know something, speak it!"

Teal eyes blinked slowly at Tarrant above an ever-lasting grin. "Why should I tell you, Tarrant? You already know."

Yellow spiked his eyes. "I am sure I do not," he enunciated very precisely.

Chess sighed and made a full appearance, tail flicking back and forth in a relaxed manner. "Come now, old man. It does you no good to lie to yourself." He blinked. "But that is what you do, isn't it?"

"Chess..." A growl.

He stretched and rolled into the air, lying on his side. "No matter what you won't tell yourself, I recommend you do what your Champion has asked and keep that blood close."

A stream of angry Outlandish raged from the Hatter along with a vicious kick and Chess vanished, only to reappear out of the irate man's range. "Temper, temper! You'd best watch it, Tarrant. Someone _will_ get hurt one of these days."

With that he was gone and Tarrant glared at empty air for a minute before destroying the cat's footprints, the act irrational but giving him a minute bit of contentment. "Bloody cat..." he fumed.

xxxx

"Hm...they enjoy the dark?"

"No."

"Both are stained black!"

"No."

"They both handle crumbs? Associated with wine and cheese? They dream of swimming?"

"No. What? Swimming?"

Hart rubbed his eyes, working on tuning out the absurdity behind him even as his brain stubbornly turned the riddle over in the back of his mind. Galen made the mistake of asking Tarrant for riddles and had been guessing them most of the morning before he demanded an exceptionally difficult one. The Hatter had quickly pulled Thackery's riddle into play and since, Galen had been met with decline after decline. "Does it have an answer?" Nari asked, ears flat.

Alice smiled sympathetically. "I believe only Thackery knows. The March Hare."

"Good luck getting an answer from him." Hart smirked scornfully.

The Lamonts were seeing them off this morning, everyone in higher spirits with only some faint tension lingering between Tarrant and Alice. The Champion was confident time on the road would fix that. Elder Lamont children had come by as well and Alice had graciously entertained them for a minute before the rest of the party finished their gear checks and were ready to move. Lowell was ready with a shoulder already down and seemingly eager to go. Mr and Mrs Lamont were horse breeders of Kreig's fine race and the bandersnatch never did get on well with anyone working at a stable. When Alice settled into the saddle, Lowell nearly popped upright and moved to lead position within the party as though to shun the hosts that had put them all up for the night.

As the final goodbyes were said, Mr Lamont stepped forward. "'Ey, lad! Yer one'na those Hightopps, right?" Tarrant's face twisted in confusion but he nodded. Lamont nodded as well. "Tell tha' Lillian tha' I'll have a fine filly ready f'her in a couple'a weeks, eh?"

Lillian Hightopp. Tarrant blanched but nodded. "A-Aye sir...I'll be doin' tha'."

"An' tell 'er her husband's a right jackass tha' owes me another game of cards!"

To that, Tarrant nodded mutely. Morgan turned to join his fellows when he did not receive the command from his rider, watching his gait as Tarrant seemed a bit out of his head at the moment. They lingered behind, leaving Alice to be chatted up by the knights. The Hatter was unfazed despite the competitive urge he normally had with the situation and he sat atop Morgan with a slightly lowered countenance and busy thoughts. Morgan followed the others at a short distance and of his own will, shaking his head when Kreig glanced back to see what was wrong. Tarrant gave no orders, did not shift in the saddle, did not play with the ribbons and threads in his small saddlebag...it was a stillness Morgan was unaccustomed to and made the fur along his spine twitch.

So it was with caution that Morgan kept up with the party, even as they began to up the pace. However his careful stride was losing time and increasing distance and he did not want to be alone with the half-mad man so he broke into a short gallop. The sudden jerk broke the Hatter from whatever demons had gripped him and he managed to catch himself before he went flying into the grass. "Whoa there, Morgan!"

"We're dropping behind, you daft git!" Morgan snorted, not obeying the pull of the reigns.

Tarrant let the leather slide slack in his hands as he saw the truth of the horse's words. As they caught up, he had a moment to figure the numbers and in total, they'd lost an entire day's travel and were now deviating from Alice's original path. Mr Lamont had hovered with Alice over her maps and he'd assisted when she'd begun to sketch out a map of Witzend alone, pointing out where his ranch lay and where they might find the old road to Aldea. He'd tutted over Iplam's state but gave an estimated idea of where they might find Aldea within its scorched borders. Tarrant was still hesitant to go but with the dawn he'd told himself that Alice was leading him and would not draw him astray so he wrestled his demons and put aside his cowardice.

The four rode at a swift pace during which the horses proved their breeding, Nari did not attempt to throw her rider nor stop to nap, and Lowell thundered ahead of the group with a fierce freedom; baying into the wind in delight that he could flat-out run at last! They made up lost ground and time and shortly after midday, Lowell came to a sliding stop at the very edge of Iplam and Witzend, where all eight were silent.

A scar upon Underland's surface, Iplam changed little with time and to enter it was to be immediately taken into another realm. The roads through the province were sharply stained red and black at the borders of Witzend. Lowell sniffed at the sudden change in color and the whuff of his breath stirred a low-lying red mist that crept over all the land yet dared not seep into the verdant land Iplam was once a part of. By the remnants on the ground and the retreat of black clouds, Alice imagined they'd just missed a red storm. She swallowed and her brow furrowed. "I don't remember it being quite like this..." she murmured. Sparse twisted black trees almost seemed to move towards her and groaned at the touch of an ill wind, the only greeting the land could offer. Ravens alighted on the branches though did not remain for longer than a few seconds, as though afraid of their perches.

"You were much less than you are now." Tarrant replied, sounding more relaxed than the Champion had anticipated. He snugged his hat on his head and nudged Morgan forward. "Come along. I can lead us from here."

Iplam, despite its dead state, was not silent. All manner of small noises kept the party alert and jumping. A herd of ten scrappy feral cats, made brave by hunger, crossed their path at one point and Nari had to argue the point that these were _her_ mice and they'd best press on unless they wanted to appease her appetite. Given that she was somewhere around twenty times their size and in infinitely better shape, they chose to move on. Ravens circled above the party as though monitoring their every move and rodents moved among charred grass and fallen trees.

Tarrant led them steadily, not bothered by the noises and vermin, and as they traveled a small curve in his invisible road, it became clear that they were entering what once was an off-shoot of the Tulgey Wood. The trees here were tall, narrow, and straight. Only patches of the trees were burnt and they bore no leaves but it seemed as though the wood was too stubborn to simply keel over just because a Jabberwocky thought he was stronger. In fact, the trees seemed still, locked in time and waiting for the right moment. The wind made no noise as it traveled through their boughs and rodents had not chewed away at their bases nor dug among their roots. Alice took the time to jot down notes. Her drawing skills were somewhat lacking (she managed to ignore her mother's sighing in the back of her mind) but she found that words came easily to her and otherwise illegible and cryptic writings became clear when she revisited them.

"Here we are."

Her book snapped shut and Alice moved her attention forward, brows furrowed as she frowned. "Aldea?"

Tarrant nodded and the party separated to wander and investigate. Aldea, it seemed, had suffered the Jabberwocky's wrath first and been left to die while he razed the rest of what became Iplam. Due to his cocky negligence, the town had suffered greatly but it was not unduly past repair, to Alice's great relief. She slid off Lowell and approached the Hatter, who stared at everything with a grim expression of resignation. "Tarrant?"

He looked to her after a moment, finding her to be strangely bright among the living shadows. A great, strange relief had filled him that he had come upon his town in ruins. Had he cleared the bend only to find the lively scene of his dreams, such a desperation would have filled him that no laughter nor warm touch could sooth him. "Aye?"

"Would you show me your home?"

_In for a penny._ He nodded and dismounted, pulling the short sword from his saddle and throwing the shield over a shoulder. "Just don't leave me here," he whispered, swallowing the light coating of dust on his throat.

"Of course not." Alice swore with equal quiet, taking her champion's arm and following his lead. "This is not the place we passed through before."

"No. Tha' was further North, lass. It was a place for everyone to gather for special events. Weddings, birthdays, funerals if the person was known well enough. The day of th' Jabberwocky's victory, it seemed all my family had gone there fer a party, devoted to what though, I canno' recall."

"But you were with the Queen then..."

"Indeed I was. Th' Jabberwocky went roarin' and hallooin' about, killin' her court and pawns like 'e was _starved_ for blood. I raced her out of there as fast as her horse could go, no' puttin' it past the Big Haed to kill her own sister. Hightopps have always been employed at the White Court...you might say we've a monopoly on it." He chuckled and it was almost with true mirth. "Her sister knew that...hated her all the more for it and tagged us as spies. Tha' day though, the Queen had been confident of her Champion's victory and she'd already excused the rest o' her court so the Hightopps might celebrate what it was a' home. And I...I fled the castle with th' first horse I could find that wasn't the exhausted beast tha' had just borne us. Yet by the time I'd arrived..."

"You couldn't have stopped it." Alice soothed, threading her hand into his own. "He flew over the woods while you not only had to race away but then cover the distance twice over."

Yellow eyes narrowed at her. "Does leavin' it in th' hands o' Fate make it easier fer you?"

"That is unfair." She challenged, standing before him to stop his path. "Please don't lash out at me when you are hurting."

He fumed, a fleet thousand dark possibilities to rid himself of this constant roadblock crossing his mind's eye. This maturing Alice was quite possibly more frustrating than the young Alice he'd had so much more practice with! "You must change at a pace I can track!" he sighed gruffly, walking around and leading her by the hand.

"You have no workshop to run to out here so I would take notes, my dear Hatter," she retorted, smirking and squeezing his hand.

He paused to look side-long at her, chuckling and shaking his head. "My family's estate should be somewhere close to here."

"Who is Lillian?"

"One mental breakdown at a time, woman!" His laughter echoed around the remains.


	8. Chapter 8

_Some quick notes:_

_Song bit in here, very brief. If you like, I can provide the link to where I found it for it certainly isn't mine. :)_

xxxx

Ravens cawed and fluttered from branch to rubble to the sky to the ground, anywhere that they could really as long as it meant the bloody knight would stop begging them for answers about writing desks and their relation. Surely the man was mad! What the devil would a raven know about a writing desk and how would they relate anyway? The birds cawed and laughed among themselves at the question, not realizing a tiny seed of madness had been planted in their minds at the ridiculous riddle.

Among the red-dusted ruins, Alice gave no thought to the ravens nor writing desks. Her hands were full and busy, one with her notebook and another scribbling quickly with a pencil. Design not being her forte, she none the less did her best to map out Aldea and made rough estimates and notes. She had lingered at the foundations of Tarrant's home but watching him sort through the ruins with a sad, child-like motion created a weight too heavy on her heart and she had to leave. Galen chased the ravens about when he wasn't making inane comments about the weather, twice they had to duck for cover due to short red storms, and Hart kept a watch near Alice. The knight visibly twitched when Tarrant's less than sane laughter would reach them and he paced and muttered as a song rose among the dust.

_Let's drink to our next meeting, lads,_

_ Nor think on what's atwixt;_

_ They're fools wha' spoil the present hour_

_ By thinkin' on the next._

The song and Hart's mutterings moved to the back of Alice's mind while she worked though, unknown to her, she had started to hum a line or two from the chorus. Hart continued to pace, gloved fingers running over his lips and through the scruff on his face. He had never been to Witzend, was never a member of the parties sent to "recruit employees" from the lush land. Always did he ride South for the Tulgey Wood or swept the beaches of the North and he was, privately, quite pleased with his capture rate. A detail he would certainly never share with the present company! A strong laugh's echo sent chills skittering down his spine and brought him from his musings. He fought the urge to hold his hands to his ears. "We should not tarry long, m'lady. I, for one, do not wish to bed down here."

Alice's sketching stopped and she gave the knight a long, silent look; one that he held until he imagined she might be figuring something out. When his eyes broke off, Alice made a couple more notes before quietly closing the book and tucking it under an arm. "You're right, Knight Hart. I don't think this will be doing him any further good right now." Hart merely nodded, watching Galen patiently explain why he was not a mouse to a feral cat while Alice carefully traveled the broken road towards Tarrant's voice.

_If it has done him any good at all._ The question worried at Alice. Despite her attachment to the Hatter, she was on a mission and had sworn to accomplish certain things along the way. Aldea was an unexpected side trip but fit nicely into her personal motives, meaning she needed to balance the time spent there with the distance yet to cover. For all her curiosity, she also had little desire to remain in Aldea for the night. The red dust was starting to irritate her eyes and she feared the entire location was beginning to get under Tarrant's skin unfavorably. She'd heard him sing in his less than sane moments; times where she'd leaned on the doors to his workshop in quiet agony while the sounds of destruction reached her. Sometimes she would simply arrive too late and learned, the hard way, that even she had to let the madness run its course on occasion. She rubbed her left shoulder and neck in memory...a memory she would never dare share with him.

Singing was another form of laughter, or so she approximated. It was not as potent and generally the songs were of a somewhat happy nature so the memories invoked must have been of a brighter time, possibly to chase off the madness that threatened. So she guessed. It was difficult to get into a half-mad man's head when one was half-mad yourself! She laughed at the absurdity of her attempt, cut-off when Tarrant suddenly appeared before her in a new state...one she'd never seen before.

One green eye and one yellow eye looked down upon her above the mad-man's grin and the lisp rather than brogue was prominent. "Oh Alice, you're just in time! Come along and meet the lads, yes? I've told them quite a bit about you, you know!" Alice was pulled unceremoniously along and stumbled before catching her feet. "Yes, they're quite excited and tell me I'm like my father, bringing home tales of jewels from Marmoreal!"

Nerves gathered in a tight ball in Alice's gut. This was new and unexpected. Tarrant had never dragged her into his visions, never interacted with other living things that she had seen. Perhaps it why he spent so much time in his workshop when he was not out with company that could handle the reigns? Her blood froze with that possibility and she tripped over the charred remnants of a chair, falling from Tarrant's grip and onto her right knee. She cried out, more so from surprise than pain and was doubly surprised as Tarrant returned to lift her to her feet...though it was an act less charitable than imagined.

"So clumsy Alice! We mustn't tarry, they are waiting!"

She went along in numb shock for a minute before anger and grief made her twist from his grip. "_No!_ Tarrant, what are you doing?"

"Honest, Alice, weren't you listening?" he sighed and made to reach for her again.

Having had quite enough of being manhandled, tears rolled from the Champion's eyes and she slapped the Hatter as hard as she could, making him stagger to the side. Adrenaline flowed thick in Alice's blood and she set one foot back while she waited for him to recover. She had never struck him despite any and all frustrating times, and now did so far away from the protection of Mirana while the man was out of his head! A strange calm was with her though; she was not afraid at all in that moment. "Tarrant, they are _dead_. They are all dead! You cannot take me to see ghosts!" In her peripheral vision, Hart and Galen waited, highly unsure of what exactly to do in this instance. Her words had brought all Aldea to true silence, as though waiting with baited breath for Tarrant's reply.

Several tense minutes passed in that terrible quiet, enough time for the adrenaline to drain from Alice and leave her in horror of herself and her words. True as they may have been, she had been cold and cutting and had _struck_ him! She made an attempt to speak but could not find the voice. Tarrant spared them all the need, though. He raised a hand to his stinging cheek, the same that Alice had kissed so short a time ago, and rose to his full height. He didn't bother with dusting the soot and dust off. "Let's go gents. We've a mission to accomplish for the Lady."

"Tarrant!" Alice found her voice as the Hatter moved past her without so much as a glance. She grabbed his arm, making him stop though he did not turn to her. "We can come back here."

His voice was low but the brogue remained hidden. "If it is your will, m'lady."

She hesitated. "Do...do you wan-?"

"I do _not_!" he hissed, shaking his arm free and storming back towards their mounts.

xxxx

The last of the day's ride cleared them of Iplam's scarred landscape and Tarrant led the group, directing them with a mute, commanding edge that was unexpected. Though perhaps it had been granted by the rest of the party by silent unanimous vote. No one quite knew what to make of the man in his current state and so no one wanted to press the situation. It was an unusual sort of fear, one that only added to the ill feeling in Alice's gut, and dragged them all into an unease similar to the quiet before a storm.

When camp was made that night, it was under the protection of a copse of young trees, their leaves not fully grown as Spring was still new. What cover there was cast patched shadows upon the travelers from the sickle moon's glow. The meal was short and no stories were told or songs sung. Hart slept at Nari's side, by his own tradition, and Galen held a watch within one of the young trees, singing softly about mushrooms and marriage. Tarrant bedded down wordlessly near the fire and for the Champion, for Alice, there was no rest.

Having little stomach for dinner, Alice had left the men to what discussion they may, though all was silent. She had retreated to the edge of the copse, looking out over the green land of Witzend and the slightly distant scar of Iplam. Red-tinged black clouds rolled as though stuck behind a glass lid, nothing of Iplam having the strength to enter the healthy world without a force to guide it...just as the Jabberywocky and his ill intent. She was unsure of how long she sat, staring vacantly at the contrasted landscapes, but a voice disturbed her at length...a voice she had not heard in years.

"What have I told you about tears, stupid girl?"

Alice started and quickly wiped the wet trails from her cheeks. "Absolem?" Low moonlight reflected off the almost errant pattern of a butterfly's wings flapping about and Alice extended a hand, laying the palm out for Absolem to alight upon. Even in his new form, larger than any butterfly she'd seen in Overland, Absolem smelled of the sweet, pungent smoke he had so enjoyed blowing in her face. "You have been gone for quite some time." she smiled.

A slow flap of his wings, it seemed the pungent scent was coming from them, and his smallish face laughed at her. "You have merely been here for quite some time. What prompts your tears tonight, Champion?"

She sniffled and shook her head. "Nothing, really."

"Quite an ado over a Nothing. Have you tried paprika? Tends to send the Nothings on their ways. Then again, so does a sprinkling of Common Sense, though it is much harder to find."

Alice laughed quietly, not quite sure if he was joking or earnest. "I made a mistake, Absolem."

"Ah, that's better. Nothings are fine until they are dismissed, you know...then they become Somethings." His dark legs folded neatly beneath his body as he relaxed. "A mistake is it?"

"Yes." Her eyes burned with new tears just to think on it. "Oh Absolem I struck Tarrant! And I was so..."

"Honest?"

"Cruel." Alice retorted.

The butterfly sighed. "Underland is not a fantasy land, stupid girl. Cruelty is a part of life here as well as your Overland."

"I did not need to apply it to him!" she snapped.

His wings fluttered in agitation. "Not all the land can be saved and shaped by the mere desire to do so, _Champion_. Parts will demand a steady hand that can actually command the vorpal sword rather than merely holding on!"

She almost shook the insect from her hand, eyes narrowing dangerously. "You're saying I should take _arms_ against him!"

Absolem sighed the sigh of the long-suffering, legs stretching as he stood. "Tarrant Hightopp buried the remnants of much of his family after Horunvendush Day. He knows this. He also knows the chances of survival for the rest of his family after the Red Queen came to solitary power. None in all of Underland know these things better than him."

"I tossed the truth in his face." she whispered with pained knowing.

A small nod. "A Champion's growth demands knowing where and how to wound. And the deepest wounds will hurt the most when healing."

Tears streamed anew. "So the only way to help him...is to hurt him?"

"The Hatter has enjoyed many years of lies and private deception, festering in the memories of his past while clawing at enemies of the present. Ask the Queen; such a wound must be cut open to begin healing. Only you know where and how to cut, Champion."

Alice worried her lower lip for a minute, sniffling and not feeling any better though a visit from Absolem had yet to leave her with warm and fuzzy feelings. She sighed and gently stroked the black and blue body. "Where do you go from here?"

He flapped his wings gently a few times. "I go where I am needed, stupid girl."

"I will find needles for those pretty wings if you insist upon continually calling me that."

Absolem laughed and fluttered away, leaving a faint trail of smoke off his wings that made him blend into the night-time mists of Witzend.

xxxx

More Spring rains greeted them the next day but as it was more of a heavy mist than true rain, they pressed on, once more led by the Hatter's seemingly blind instinct. The tension was still present but it seemed the knights were determined to combat it, Hart beginning a song of Marmoreal and Galen joining in...slightly off-key. Alice had heard the ballad during her time at the White Castle and hummed along quietly, her eyes moving from the land, to Lowell, to Tarrant, and back again in a slow cycle. After her little impromptu chat with Absolem, she'd managed to get some rest while still feeling mostly awful (yet the tiniest bit better) and this morning, was trying to think of ways she might approach Tarrant. He was still quite distant, in all senses of the word, and had kept his eyes either away or down so Alice could not properly read the more obvious signs.

Lowell had definitely picked up on his mistress' change of mood and had tried, several times, to move ahead so that bloody silly man could make her happy again but each time she tugged him back. He had tried whining at first but she didn't seem inclined to listen so he stomped harder than usual yet the ground here was softer than Marmoreal and thwarted his effort. So he'd grumphed a sigh and went along, glaring at the silly man's back, starting to wonder if it was actually something that the man had done wrong. The possibility made him growl unpleasantly.

"Lowell..." Alice soothed, leaning down and patting the beast's ribs.

Galen hit a note too sharp to be forgivable and Hart stopped singing with an exasperated sigh. "Did you never take a _day_ of lessons in the fine arts, you git?"

"Why certainly!" Galen affirmed cheerily. "Mummy insisted I take singing lessons as well as lessons on the piano!"

Hart rolled his eyes. "Did she now? Pardon me while I pray for your teachers."

"Do you play, Sir Galen?" Alice inquired, more so for wanting to get her mind off the confusion riding ahead of them.

"Oh indeed I do, m'lady Andy!" Galen seemed to puff a bit, ignoring Hart's muttered correction. "Every seven-day I would play for my aunts and uncles and leave them in tears!"

Alice bit her lip for a moment, trying to cover her laughter in a more dignified way than Hart's abrupt "coughing" fit. "I see. My mother also insisted I take lessons on the piano, perhaps we can play together one day."

"Truly?" Galen beamed. "Oh it would be marvelous Lady Alena!" He glanced about and lowered his voice as though telling a great secret. "Perhaps we could invite the Lady Bolet? And you might put in a good word for me?"

"Perhaps." Alice nodded with false politeness, absorbing the realization that his interest in her was only as a way to get to the one woman who's name he could not forget. _Now I just need Hart to give up and Lowell to flee and this will be perfect._ She sulked privately with her wounded pride.

Another hour's ride and they came astride a small river to their left. By her best guess and the use of a compass, she imagined that they had encountered an off-shoot off the South Black Burn, the same off-shoot that fed the Lamont stead if her maps read right. Though to confirm it...

Alice steeled herself and urged Lowell forward, the bandersnatch doing so with more gusto than normal, she thought. He slowed as he came astride of Morgan, for once not growling at the stallion. "Tarrant?" Alice prodded softly.

"Aye, m'lady?" he asked, his voice unreadable.

She sighed quietly. "Is this from the Southern Black Burn?"

"Yes."

A thought tweaked Alice, making her sit more upright and look around in mild shock. "Tarrant, where are we going?" She hadn't given second thought to him leading the party, her trust so great that it didn't register as a danger.

"I am going to see Lillian Hightopp and her husband, as I promised, m'lady. You and your knights are welcome to continue towards Salazen Grum."

Alice tightened her jaw and risked falling off of Lowell as she reached down to grab Tarrant's hand, holding fast despite her semi-treacherous predicament. She could feel it and almost see it when he flinched and for just a moment, for it was all she needed, he looked at her. The relief of seeing two green eyes was so great she could have fallen straight into the Hatter's lap! Surely it was apparent in her face for Tarrant grumbled and looked away again; Alice could have laughed. Instead she smiled calmly and kept her voice low, feeling relief dissolve the rocks of guilt in her gut. "I am sorry, my dear, dear Hatter. I wish I could take all the sadness from you."

Normally any touch received from Alice was met with a returned touch on his part but Tarrant was still angry and hurting. Perhaps it was not so much at her as it had been at first but he did not want to be consoled. He wanted to finish the god-forsaken mission and return to his workshop, where he could fall apart freely and forget again without the concern of hurting anyone. Aldea's ghosts had been just a little too raw for him, the ruins too real. It was _all_ much too real then and he was furious with Alice for dragging him there, for letting Memory score points against him. Then there had been a series of chairs and the remnants of a stained glass window and he had flashes of visions involving old mates and times spent escaping the eye of his father. The tanners shop on the edge of town, then the tailor's (who would never let his daughter run with the lads), the bakery, all of it was there. Aldea began to come to life once more before his very eyes. He had been overjoyed and found friends who teased him about working himself crazy. He'd laughed and from there things had tilted while he went on about his life at Marmoreal and Alice over a pint. When she'd appeared, he knew they absolutely had to meet her straightaway and he was too excited to give pause. There was something odd though...the woman was falling over nothing and looking at him strangely. Then a slap and her words cut like ice as she ripped him from the illusion Memory had called down.

It never would have happened if she hadn't brought him there, hadn't let her own madness drive her and him closer to their respective ledges. Consumed equally with grief and anger, he could offer neither so showed nothing until she stopped him. He knew the question, knew it without her finishing it, and he was firmly resolved to never return to the real hell that was his home now. He had followed her half-unwilling this time and for there to be a next he would need to be bound by chain and strapped to the bandersnatch such was his desire to escape it. And now she was _touching_ him. Bloody unfair was how the woman played her games!

He would not yield, not yet. With childish obstinance he clung to his sorrows and his rage. "I do not need your sympathy, Champion."

Her hand slipped from his and he _almost_ chased her fleeing fingers, catching himself at the last second. Alice did not say anything further but her posture and the barest hint of a smile on her lips alerted him that she certainly felt like she had a victory. Scowling, he stared between Morgan's ears, fancying that he just might make a hat for the horse.

xxxx

A griffin dropped out of the sky and into their path not ten minutes later. He was small, belying his lion half, however his bird half was not eagle but parrot. The bright plumage identified him as a mere messenger rather than a guardian and he cocked his head at them, blinking a golden eye. "Her majesty demands a status report. Short is the trip from the White Castle to Salazen Grum."

Alice almost offered a cracker to him in rebuttal for the condescension in his tone. "We have been riding at an easy pace, good messenger, and were at the mercy of guides only two days past."

He bristled a bit, turning his other eye towards them. He would never fully understand the wingless ones. "Guides?"

"Tradesmen from Snud." Tarrant growled, in no mood to be stopped. "You have your message."

"You have no rank." the griffin snapped back, not caring about the fringe of yellow in his opponent's eyes. He shook the moisture from his feathers and hindquarters. "The Queen has also requested the observations of Lady Alice, as they are to date."

Alice was hesitant to do so until the creature produced another journal from the bag strapped to his chest. She kept her newest map of Witzend, though. "What day is it by the Oraculum, messenger?" Galen inquired.

"Pulong Day." he answered distractedly, sitting back on his haunches while tucking the journal away.

"Fitting." Tarrant muttered.

Alice could only wonder as the messenger listened to any other messages that were needing to get back to Marmoreal. With a bright flash of colorful wings and a hearty jump from the powerful-if-small hindquarters, the messenger griffin was off to complete his task. After a moment, the party set out again, Alice stubbornly refusing to leave Tarrant's side, which she knew was irritating him. If Absolem's words held any merit, however, it was what she needed to do and was quite late for doing it. He fiddled with a handful of ribbons from one of his bags, which one she had not seen, and went between braiding and weaving them; the braids so tight they could nearly stand on their own. One particularly tight weave went between his teeth and Alice glanced over to find that the Hatter was actually chewing on it!

She had seen him chew straps of leather before, when he was working especially hard at his trade. The leather was treated and not exactly fit for consumption, which made her worry and shifted her focus from the actual problem. Perhaps that was his reason for doing it, misdirection and a recalcitrance to speak the truth. Alice had her own methods of avoiding the same thing with him and she smiled, truly annoyed at how similar they could be! "Tarrant?"

"Mm?" was the murmured reply.

Getting used to the feeling, Alice ensured she had a solid grip on Lowell's tack before sliding a bit and gripping the braided ends of the rope Tarrant was chewing. She pulled, gently at first, until he looked her in the eye, his right eye twitching in show of his annoyance with her. No doubt it looked rather odd to the knights riding behind them but Alice could have cared less just then and she smiled too pleasantly. Under the cover of her hood, her teeth had a way of appearing dangerously white, alarming the Hatter for a moment. "Tarrant, my dear Hatter, you have the choice of releasing the ribbons and talking to me, losing teeth, or being pulled from Morgan's back and dropped to the ground for your stubbornness."

His eyes met her cool stare with a slight narrowing. The remorse she'd borne in silence was faded and her resolve tempered by her growing ire with him. She would make good on her threats for even if she didn't have the strength to tear him from the saddle, she had the will to hold on and four tons of furred muscle at her immediate disposal. The pull became stronger and he bore down, neck muscles twitching with the effort. He could feel himself beginning to slide from the saddle and silently cursed Morgan, traitorous horse! Alice watched him with the same stare, a mix of anger, amusement, and affection in her eyes. She would happily dump his ass on the heather.

"Ach!" he scoffed, releasing the rope and resettling on Morgan's back, the horse snorting in an attempt to badly disguise his laugh. Tarrant shrugged deeper into his plaid and was nearly displaced from the saddle a second time as Hart and Nari suddenly burst between them, racing forward.

Lowell and Morgan both shied for Nari ran with all claws and fangs to bear and each knew the mood of a cat, a female feline no less, was mercurial at best. The panther slid to a stop, a splash of white against the gray, blue, and green of the heather and skies. Upon her back, Hart was poised with halberd and dagger at the ready; a dark and impressive form against the mist. She was chilled by a vision of Stayn flashing before her mind's eye yet the chill became for something more real as she realized that Galen had rode up on her right, his expression grim as he bore sword and shield and waited.

It was a moment before it could be heard but there were hooves thundering toward them; either earth-bound or the rumble of Zeus' chariot horses, she could not be sure. She drew her sword in readiness, wondering at the power of Hart's vision if he could spy a threat through the mists. "What is it?" she asked of Galen. Tarrant seemed unconcerned and uninterested.

"He said he spotted someone coming up fast, m'lady. That's all I could get from him before he was off." Galen shrugged and smiled winningly at her.

Hardly reassured, Alice watched the mists begin to break around the charge of a clydesdale easily the size of Kreig. Hart actually dismounted, to the Champion's shock, and nudged Nari over to the side, clearing a space for the rider's charge as well as his swing. A dark smile had settled on his lips. "Halt unless you are the enemy!"

The rider kept coming, hallooing in a voice that was very clearly angry. "I'll cut you down in any form, servant of the bloody queen!"

Hart briefly contemplated jamming the butt of his halberd into the ground to take away the boy's mount but dismissed it. Not only would it be a waste of a fine animal but it was such a beast that it would risk shattering the shaft. As the rider closed ranks, intent on spearing the tall man, Hart smirked and whipped the halberd around, using reach and height to avoid the spear and smack the butt end of the halberd's shaft across the boy's chest, instantly dismounting him and stealing the wind from his lungs. Instinct, long-trained, demanded that he kill his opponent immediately but as a knight of the White Castle, he was forced to a more civil stand. So he held his ground, laughing as loudly as he dared to see his enemy attempting to rise.

Alice dismounted and rushed past the tall knight, giving him a look of disdain and confusion in passing. She took to a knee beside the fighter and was grateful to see that there was at least a meager covering of ringmail across his chest and ribs. It had, hopefully, saved them from breaking. She brushed the wet locks from his face and smiled reassuringly. "He is no friend of the bloody queen. My name is Alice, who are you?"

"W-William..." he gasped, convinced that an angel had come to save him before he passed out.

After it was determined that there didn't seem to be any true damage to his ribs beyond one hell of a bruising, William was gently loaded onto his horse. Only while they were deciding what to do did Alice truly notice that the young man wore a kilt; one done in the same tartan as Tarrant's. "He's..." she gasped.

"Let's keep on. We can return him to his home and be on our ways." Tarrant decided for them, nudging Morgan into a faster gait than they'd held before.


	9. Chapter 9

_Some quick notes:_

_Just quickly saying thank you to all who have read and to those who have commented so far, I hope I continue to supply per demand! :)_

_As always, all mistakes are mine.  
_

xxxx

It seemed William, when conscious, brought with him both a breath of fresh air and the sun, though the light was milky at best. He confided that he didn't feel broken ("nothin's clickin' or screamin so must be alright" he said) but promised, with a charming smile at Alice's insistence, that he would have a doctor look him over. For a man in pain, he was quite lively and chatted up Galen and Alice while Hart and Tarrant sulked mutely just ahead of the three. William paid great attention to Alice and with each passing moment, Hart studied the Hatter with mixed feelings. One one hand he had trepidation; bothered by the almost jerky and erratic motions and quiet grumbles the man made. On the other there was something in him that would have been happy to see the mad man fly off the handle...though Hart couldn't allow it; something he told himself with every bright laugh from the Champion.

For her part, Alice delighted in her new company as best she was able. William boasted a head of long, dark auburn curls drawn back into a partially bound tail with bright brown eyes over an open and easy smile. His voice was rich and his words rolled with the brogue that appeared more common in Witzend. Yet all this combined with the kilt he wore, it only served to remind Alice of the sullen Hatter and her enjoyment was less for it. More than once did she look to the man, who acknowledged no one and worked furiously at a something kept hidden by his position ahead of her. With the cessation of the rain, the plaid had dropped from his shoulders and rested around his hips and thighs, exposing his arms so Alice could more easily see the twitch in his motions. The plaid and man had drawn William's eye more than once as well. Alice knew he had questions, undoubtedly some of them were her own, but she kept him engaged with questions to forestall his riding forward to find answers.

"How does he know where to go?" William asked in a low voice that nearly trembled with excitement. Not only had he seen an angel but said angel was the Champion, Slayer of the Jabberwocky!

"I'm not sure...but I think...he..."

She trailed off as they came over a rolling hill and the land changed from a lush, wild paradise of heather to the splendor of farms and freshly tilled fields. The people working in the fields paused with the arrival of the unexpected party, nervously gathering their children close. William rode slowly to the fore and waved to show that all was well. As his arm dropped, he looked to Tarrant, who regarded him with a look that was not quite all there, the light at his back putting most of his face in shadow. "We've come t'my home. I appreciate th' escort howe'er you'd best be on your ways."

The veiled threat made Tarrant laugh and his tone was firmly aggressive. "Is tha' so, lad? I've come t'give word and this Hightopp will no' be shoved aside like a mongrel."

"Hightopp, is it?" William stared back, giving a meaningful look to the plaid Tarrant bore. "Unless you're a ghost, there's no Hightopps from where you've come."

"Please, William." Alice interjected before Tarrant could utter a word. "He was made to promise to deliver word to Lillian Hightopp and her husband."

A stalemate ensued during which Alice was caught between and therefore able to detect the faint hints of similarity between the two. The contest was short lived and lost to the Hatter, who turned from William's gaze to move Morgan to Lowell's side. Tarrant fidgeted awkwardly before presenting a gift for Alice to take. "For you, m'lady. I hope you find it acceptable."

Alice smiled and blushed prettily, accepting what looked to be a circlet made of ribbons and feeling every male eye glower upon the Hatter. The weave of ribbons was intricate and complimentary with several long ribbons trailing down the back. Tiny stitches formed the shapes of animals and even one small design mimicked Lowell's pawprint perfectly. It warmed her to the core and she found Tarrant watching her with poorly concealed eagerness. A peace offering then? Perhaps prompted by the arrival of unwanted, saner, and younger competition? Her ego preened somewhere in the background while she smiled at the Hatter and daringly leaned down to kiss his cheek, opposite where she'd struck him. "Thank you, Tarrant."

He wished she would linger but her touch was as fleeting as it was warm. None the less, Tarrant shucked the sorrows he had buried himself under, finding that the upset of his usual order paled in comparison to that which threatened to come between him and she who made the world make sense. He sat straighter in the saddle and smiled, disregarding the dark looks of his competitors and speaking as Morgan gracefully sidestepped and turned. "Well then, let's be off! I think I still remember the way though the fields seem bigger."

"I'll let her know yer comin'." William bowed awkwardly in the saddle and clicked his tongue. His horse obeyed but William threw one last charming grin at Alice. "I'll be eagerly awaitin' your arrival, m'lady!"

The Hatter glared flatly at the young man's retreating back. Alice rode up beside him, spotting more of the dark tartans she associated with her friend among those working the fields. "Amazing..." She placed the circlet of ribbons securely upon her head and nodded to Tarrant. "By your leave, good Hatter."

Tarrant once more took point, leading them down the slope and into a place held fond by his heart. Hart followed but kept his back bowed and his cowl up, not wanting to be pelted with rocks for another case of mistaken identity. The people of the fields had a mixed response to their approach. The party moved with a cautious speed because of it. After all, it was not every day that the bandersnatch was seen roaming free and he was once an ill omen. Mothers kept their children close and fathers watched with stern features and firm grips upon their tools. Some of the people began to whisper Alice's name and still others bowed in reverence as she passed. No one seemed to notice Tarrant for all the distraction the Champion brought, at least for the time being.

The Hatter directed them left and up a sloped and well-tended road paved with large, flat stones. Kreig, Nari, and Lowell had little issue with the path, the grooves between the stones posing no threat to any of their large feet. Morgan stepped with a bit more caution and ran the immature risk of making a game out of it, though he shook himself and sternly muttered that he was on the job yet. Hart anxiously glanced to the sides of their group, noticing that they had picked up a small crowd. Nari's ears swiveled restlessly and her whiskers twitched as her nose tried to explain the situation. Galen rode with a straight back and a lazy smile though his sword was easily within reach of his hands.

Down another road, this one back to moist earth, and William was slowly riding up the road to meet them with a smile bright as the sun. It was truly stunning and Alice felt herself blushing as he looked to her. "Welcome to th' home of Lillian an' Gregan Hightopp, m'lady! And m'lords. If you would please follow me."

Though the home mentioned was within view, the party kept pace as William led them towards it. Lowell's great head swiveled and focused on the bleating of sheep, their coats visible in the distance. He glanced back to Alice, who shook her head in warning. The bandersnatch whuffed a sigh, gave a final glance to prey lost, and continued on. They passed between two poles, each crowned with a top hat, before a woman exited the house. Tarrant gave no heed to their young escort after that and nudged Morgan ahead, the stallion racing forward and nearly throwing his rider as he came to a stop; spinning a full circle from the remaining adrenaline before becoming still and allowing Tarrant to dismount.

The Hatter approached with slow steps, doffing his hat. The woman before him was older than his dreams held her, a face aged with time and life but still amazingly beautiful. She stared hard at the Hatter before her eyes widened and welled. "It canno' be..."

Tarrant smiled. "Surely you must be a daughter of Lillian Hightopp, lass...is she at home?"

Lillian smiled and laughed brokenly. "Oh y'always were the most terrible flirt, Tarrant Hightopp!"

She rushed forward and embraced him tightly. Tarrant, one so unused to touch in his recent life, thought nothing of capturing her within the secure hold of his arms.

xxxx

"_Ow!_"

"You di'nah tell me you were bringing home family!"

William rubbed his sore head and glared at his mother. "That's because I "di'nah" know!" he mocked her tone.

Lillian dismissed the excuse. "Tsk! Family and royalty t'boot!" She smiled at Alice. "How might the Hightopp clan be of service t'you, Champion?"

Alice almost giggled but managed to catch it with the clearing of her throat as she slid down Lowell and landed lightly on her feet. She obliged him with ear scratches as he pushed his head against her side. "It is actually not I that led us here, Mrs Hightopp."

"Bah! Lillian! Call me Lillian! All tha' "Missus" titlin' gives my husband a big head!"

"And we certainly don't need any more of those." Tarrant added.

Alice chuckled in agreement. "Please, call me Alice, then. I don't actually have a title within the Queen's court."

"Well what the devil is she waitin' for?" Lillian shook her head, looking to the two knights. "Quite th' odd couple we've got here. You boys along for th' ride?"

"Not just for that! We're two of the Queen's best knights, riding with the Champion to serve her ends and bring gl—mfff!"

Having gagged Galen with a hand, Hart sighed and nodded to Lillian. "We've come to be of service and defense to Lady Alice as she travels."

She accepted Hart's less wordy explanation and returned to Alice's side, tutting over the state of her clothes. Hart retrieved his hand before Galen could bite it, smirking in personal amusement as the White Knight fumed at the loss of his grander speech. As Lillian groused over the state of all their clothing, Tarrant delivered the message he was prompted to do so and Lillian laughed at Mr Lamont's bruised pride over a card game. She ushered them all into the house where there was a chaotic spin of food and bathing, Lillian calling her son and two daughters to help. She even employed Gregan into the mix when her husband came home, a bit shocked and quite pale as he staggered through the door, having seen Lowell rolling in the grass outside (shoulder itches were a such pain when his mistress wasn't with him!).

Alice watched Tarrant carefully in this new setting, finding that she might be watching the Hatter as he once was. His tone and laughter were carefree and true and he gave as good as he got from Lillian's sharp tongue, though it was clear he bowed to her will as the matriarch, which she truly was. Lillian commanded her house with the power and grace of a queen and even Alice, for all her will, was swept along by the tide. Only Hart managed to win one argument with her...and that was over his trousers. While she'd "offered" to clean the mud from his clothes, he had adamantly refused to give up his pants, stating that any replacement she could find would either be shorts on his long legs or a kilt would come up far too high. The latter argument had put her in stitches and she'd allowed him to hold onto his pants, handing him a dry brush that he might brush the mud off. Galen whined about wearing a kilt while his clothes dried until Gregan pulled him aside and explained that ladies were quite drawn to the man that wore a kilt.

When Lillian had taken Tarrant's shirt, she looked to the soot and ash stains with only a flash of sorrow and did not ask where they came from. The Hatter graciously accepted a kilt from Gregan, who had adopted the Hightopp colors when he married Lillian, and as the chaos within slowed down, the two men escaped the house to sit outside in relative peace. With the Hightopp house placed on top of a hill, they had a fine view of the rest of the town as the farmers wrapped up their work for the day, a steady stream of bodies headed for the heart of the town along the paved road where the taverns would be willing to receive them. Resting at the back of the kitchen, the two could hear Lillian and Alice chatting amicably with Lillian's daughters and while they were engaged, Gregan crept into the house and returned with two small tankards of drink. The smell of whiskey slammed into the back of Tarrant's sinuses and he smiled, remembering times past.

Gregan and the Hatter had not been especially close, what with Tarrant running to and fro from the White Castle, but they were mates enough to share a drink and a game of darts on occasion...though after a while Gregan began to joke that he would never play with the man again. Tarrant had uncanny aim. The Hatter sipped from the whiskey, feeling it burn down his throat, and felt obnoxiously proud that he did not cough, even after all this time away. "The Red Queen did not pillage Witzend?"

Drawn from thoughts of the year's harvest, Gregan sipped from his own drink. "No' as we feared. Her knights would make a showing or two now an' again but they didn't cut in to the South. We've heard rumor tha' th' North Black Burn suffered th' worst an' have t'believe it as no word's come from tha' lot in a long time."

Companionable silent settled in, during which Gregan had a chance to study the Hatter, the man's wild locks mostly tied back from his face. It had been done earlier by the Champion and with such a delicate touch Gregan knew that "Champion" was the last thing the Hatter addressed her by when alone. Tarrant held his head, turned just slightly enough to keep track of Alice's voice, much in the way Gregan did for Lillian though the vintner seriously doubted his companion was doing so quite as intentionally. This man, Lillian had spoken of him before. He was the Hatter to the White Queen and had commanded enormous amounts of respect from the town of Aldea. Though he certainly was not now what he was then. Gregan could not help but wonder if the same fate had awaited his beautiful wife had she not given up the milliner's trade in favor of their family and his fields. It had been a great sacrifice as she was truly talented but, and he had asked many times over the years, she swore it was worth it.

He remembered Tarrant as headstrong and youthful, a young man much like William who was so set on the fact that he was right and there was always justice. Yet now that willful spirit was a man full-grown, damaged by Time and his trade. He seemed restless, constantly moving somehow, and yet tired all the same. Perhaps the guilt of being possibly the only survivor of Aldea made his sleep uneasy and wore on his mind when awake. Lillian used to have the same madness, used to have shakes in her hands and the occasional slurred word but time had cured her, Gregan could only hope it would do the same for Tarrant.

The sound of his wife's laugh rang out, followed by Alice's, and Gregan imagined that possibly there was a different hope for the Hatter than time. For Tarrant had certainly heard the sound as well, the furrows of his brow smoothing and a corner of his mouth twitching. Gregan sipped his drink. "She's quite somethin'...tha' Champion of yourn."

"Yes she is..." he lisped quietly, a smile pulling at his lips before he took another drink.

"Pretty lil' thing too." Gregan offered with false innocence, fighting off a smile to see his in-law grow tense. "William was askin' lots about her when I came home. Got a keen eye towards her, he does."

"Does he now?" the Hatter's brogue rolled softly, a frown masked by a quick drink and replaced with a slight grimace as the sip proved to be more of a mouthful. "I tho' Lil Mentioned he was goin' after th' mason's daughter."

"Oh aye, an' he's still got an eye for her. Says to me, 'You know, Da, I have two eyes for a reason!'" Gregan laughed. "She's been good t'him so far, Alice has. Lass must be a saint t'put up with him!"

Tarrant's grip intensified on his drink and he chuckled, managing to make it seem genuinely warm. "Alice is nothing if no' generous an' kind."

Seeing the man's knuckles turn white, Gregan rounded off his jest. "Tha' so? Hm...I'm just thinkin' he's set his sights a bit too high." Tarrant blinked and cocked a brow at him. "Oh don' get me wrong. He's a good man, bold and strong; could surely do right by her." He stood and stretched, setting his drink aside with a smile. "But he's dumb as a rock t'no' see what's right in front'a him."

Tarrant stared at him in confusion for an exhaustive minute that made Gregan question if he'd been reading too deeply into the pair. He was relieved when Tarrant blushed and muttered into his drink. "Yer readin' too much into it."

Gregan grinned broadly and laughed. "Am I now? The only thing wid a tighter eye on 'er is tha' mountain'a fur she rides!"

"I promised t'return 'er safely. Can'o do tha' without watchin'!" Tarrant growled.

"Oh, Lillian _said_ you were an old man when you were young! I di'na want t'believe it!" he huffed dramatically, crossing his arms and shaking his head. "Wha' _do_ you have under yer kilt, lad?"

The Hatter rose in a fury, mug tossed aside as he puffed up. "More'n half th' wealth'a Witzend an' th' envy o'th'rest!"

"Alice must be th' wealthiest woman in Marmoreal then, lad!" Lillian called out, followed by an outraged and embarrassed squawk from the Champion.

Gregan actually fell over from laughing at the sharp rise in Tarrant's color, something only encouraged by the shared laughter of Lillian and her daughters.

xxxx

The following day Alice was up before the dawn as was young William. In her restless nature, she claimed a need to ride around but also to find something for Lowell to satisfy his appetite with so the young Hightopp gallantly offered to show her around. It was blatantly shirking his duties but for Alice, for the Champion, he would gladly take the punishment! Alice hesitated only once, as she passed the Hatter, but pressed on and hoped to be back before the household could wake. Lowell was ecstatic upon seeing her and all the more so when she made no move to redress him in his tack. He very nearly smacked William with his tail, though she wasn't so sure that was accidental.

It ended up being William that did the following as Alice made no attempt to calm Lowell's generous loping stride. She merely kept her balance atop him and made notes about the town by the gray light, occasionally glancing back to see if William was keeping up. His horse did so but it was clear that this kind of racing was not their usual forte. They took a rest as the skies warmed from gray to orange and Lowell was turned free to find food, though his mistress warned him against sheep and horses. Alice watched the sky's palette shift with a sense of disappointment. She really didn't want to be there with William but she did not wish to disturb the Hatter's rest, so rarely did she capture him in a moment of deep, healing sleep. She sighed.

"What troubles you, m'lady?" William grinned, plopping onto the grass beside her with a sheen of sweat on his exposed neck and chest. "Tha' was quite the run you put us through!"

Alice turned her eyes from the sight and back to her notes. She'd nearly finished a small, very rough map of the town and its corresponding farmland and was ready to return home, as it were. There awaited her Hatter and not the temptation of his youthful imitation. "Nothing troubles me, William. But thank you for asking."

"Quite th' sunrise." He nodded to the sky, his brilliant grin reduced to a calmer, more charming smile. "Th' clear kind tha' shines in a lass' eye."

She smiled and looked to him. "Seen many sunrises with the lasses, have you?"

He chuckled at her attempted brogue. "No, m'lady." A sparkle came into his eyes. "Though I surely don' mind bein' here with you."

A blush fanned out across her face, complimenting the sunrise. "I've appreciated your help, William. I certainly would have lost my way, happens quite a bit sometimes...you see..."

She blushed all the more as he stroked her jawline boldly, turning her chin and leaning towards her. "Oh aye...I'm glad to be of any service to you."

The phrase cut and brought the sting of tears to her eyes. She turned her face from the advance of his lips and stood, speaking too quickly. "I-I should call Lowell...we need to get back."

William sighed but smiled weakly and nodded. Alice ran off a short ways and hoped Lowell would actually come when called, an exercise of limited success after three years, and William stood beside his horse, stroking the long mane. "You're playing with a dangerous fire, boy." his horse cautioned. "The small horse with them went on about their party last night."

"There be no ring on her finger nor claim from tha' man. Keep t'yer own troubles." William scoffed.

His mount merely snorted and cropped the grass.

xxxx

Breakfast was an interesting affair.

Lillian watched her family and their guests, wondering if Alice wasn't sitting a bit close to Tarrant this day. The lass seemed embarrassed about something while William very nearly preened in his chair and gave more than one cocky look to the embarrassed woman. A glance to her husband proved he was on the same path as she. What the hell had the boy done now? Alice and William had come riding in shortly after the dawn and the lass had smiled and briefly explained she was taking notes, holding her book up as evidence. It was only as William moved closer that she excused herself. Lillian found her with Gregan and Tarrant, the former of whom was laughing as Tarrant coughed, having been hit unexpectedly with a mug of coffee holding a small dram of whiskey. Lillian scolded her husband half-heartedly and everyone had settled to eat after William received an earful for dashing out without seeing to his chores.

Immediately after the meal she set her son with the task of cleaning, more so to keep him busy than actually punish him, and gracefully swept Alice away for a walk through a private family garden. Alice noticed that there were no flowers present and wondered if that was on purpose. "How'd th' ride go this morning, lass? William said he led you about the edges of what we have to offer."

"More or less it was actually I that led him." Alice laughed softly. "Lowell was rather eager to run, I did not have the heart to tame him."

Lillian laughed. "Oh th' pride of a young man! Yet it seems more fittin' for you t'be in th' lead. No meek, follower's heart could tame th' bandersnatch."

"It was a fine run." Alice agreed evasively. "Tarrant seems quite happy here."

"Tis his home! Or, one of them at least." Lillian paused and sighed. "It was a pretty sunrise then? I missed it this morning."

Alice sensed she was being lied to but played along. "It was. William and I paused to take it in and give the animals time to recover."

Lillian smirked. "They say a kiss at dawn promises fine fortunes and fair skies, you know."

Though she blushed faintly, Alice looked to Lillian with a slight smirk. "I did not but will have to keep that in mind should the opportunity arise."

Challenged, Lillian smiled. "Oh from the way you two are actin', I'd say the opportunity rose an' was declined, lass!"

"I do not wish to slight you by insulting your son however..."

"He's no' th' one, lass. Oh don' be lookin' surprised now! You two're no' as invisible as you think!"

Alice's face burned though it was partially from happiness, if he smile was anything to go by. At least she hadn't insulted her host! "There is nothing..."

"Oh don' you lie to me, lass, under my roof!" Alice almost pointed out that they were outside but kept mute about it, sensing the observation would not be well-received. "There may no' be anythin' physical just yet but you two have a devotion tha' goes beyond close companions!"

Alice cleared her throat, wondering how long one person could blush before their legs would fold from loss of blood. "Lillian please..."

The matriarch sighed. "Alright, alright. A bit too much at once, hm?" she laughed. "I take it with William prowling you won' be spendin' another night with us?"

"It is rather cramped." Alice smiled hesitantly, graciously sidestepping the obvious. "And we need to be on our way. Poor Mirana is probably tearing her lovely hair out with how long we've taken on this journey. Just yesterday we had a messenger seek us out for an update."

"Ach! Take what time you will, lass, no matter the Queen. No' that I don' value her presence, it is certainly better than her sister, but this is your road and your life." Lillian stroked Alice's cheek fondly. "Should you grow weary, you are welcome in my home any day, Alice, Champion of Marmoreal and _friend_ t'Tarrant Hightopp."

_One last zing._ Alice mentally sighed at Lillian but smiled. "I appreciate the offer, Lillian, and am grateful for your hosting us."

"Th' pleasure has been mine!" Lillian curtsied with a warm smile. "Now, let's get your men together an' you must show me th' beast you've tamed!"

xxxx

Shortly thereafter the party was on the move again with many well wishes and small gifts for Alice, little trinkets that she'd tucked away into her saddlebags. Tarrant had also been gifted with some of Lillian's milliner supplies, the items tucked away though a small bolt of fabric stuck out the saddlebag on Morgan's left side. It seemed the Hatter was in higher spirits as he cheerfully wore kilt and sporran when they rode out, drawing eyes, waves, and cheers as they left the vale. William escorted them but stopped at the edge of the farmland and gave them all a smile but winked especially for Alice. "Fairfarren all. You're welcome t'return any time th' fancy strikes!"

Alice smiled and blushed faintly but directed Lowell around and led the party out onto the road again, having updated her map with Gregan's knowledge and instructions so she could find the way to Crims without following Iplam's edge. They kept a steady pace North until reaching an offshoot of the Swollen River, where they followed it East, taking Gregan's warning and crossing early to avoid having to cross where the rivers braided together. The pace slowed as the braid, and thus Crims, approached. This was to give the mounts a chance to rest up but to give all a chance to enjoy the last of the cool green of Witzend. Past the braid, they would move into the red desert of Crims and though the Swollen River flowed through the North of the land, the water was murky and ruddy, nearly undrinkable. From what she remembered, it would be a healthy tax on their water supplies.

After they crossed the North Black Burn, the first of the rivers to braid and the last they would cross, Tarrant rode up beside Alice and smiled. "How was your ride this morning?"

She almost cringed, unsure if it was good or bad that his impression of her ride seemed innocent. "It was informative...and good for Lowell." The beast snorted at the sound of his name.

"Gregan says that young William took you on a tour."

She giggled, picking up just a touch of brogue in his tone and feeling better for it. "Oh yes. Poor boy could hardly keep up." A pause while she sighed and carefully settled the ribbon circlet on her head, its tails lifted by the cool breeze. She smiled apologetically. "You were sleeping soundly, I did not want to wake you."

Tarrant lightly chewed the inside of his cheek while digesting the truth of that. His rest had been blessedly dreamless and lasted, unbroken, the entire night. With a growled sigh, he conceded the point. "I would still have liked to accompany you."

Alice wrestled down a smile at his tone. Jealousy. "Then next time I will wake you, my dear Hatter."


	10. Chapter 10

_Some quick notes:_

_Short but it begged to be written and will not work another way._

_All mistakes are mine._

xxxx

Tempting as it was, the party did not linger at the border of Witzend. Alice directed them straight into Crims, where Hart took point and the group shifted from a loose mass to a straight line, one rider after the other with Galen taking the rear and Tarrant riding before him. Crims yawned before them, a boiling desert with a heart of ice. Alice wondered idly if that was a part of why Iracebeth was how she was. A woman twisted to cruelty by a heartless environment? There would be no answer forthcoming and the Champion was distracted to new thoughts as Hart drew the party to a halt.

His profile was stern and strictly military as he directed their attention towards the Swollen River that was visible in the immediate distance. "We are crossing through the dry North of Gummer Slough and the only way to reach the river from here is to find a way by rock. Traveling over open ground _will_ mean death."

"What do you mean, man?" Galen quirked a brow and nodded towards the river. "I see nothing dangerous between us and the only source of water in this god-forsaken land!"

Hart glanced around and dismounted to pick up a large rock. With a grunt, he threw it out across the cracked ground and all eyes watched as it slammed into and through the dry earth! A cloud of steam puffed from the opening and they could see the rock as it was sucked into the soft mire hidden underneath. Galen gulped audibly. Hart dusted his glove on his thigh and mounted up once more. "The cracked earth is where the river's reach is hidden and the mud just beneath will pull you down with no mercy. I _suggest_ everyone ride with caution."

The dry wind shifted and brought the scent of the mud towards them; a sour scent of decay and stagnation. Nari rubbed at her nose and turned to keep on moving. The rest followed with similar grimaces and an ominous pall weighed on them, compliments of Hart's warning. They jumped at small sounds that could have been the earth cracking or the skittering of small desert creatures that zipped from shade to shade. It was another quiet ride and Alice resigned herself to it, noticing that Hart seemed more alert than usual, his sharp eyes narrowed against the shimmer of the landscape as though he were hunting. Only from previous study of the man did she notice that the halberd, usually secured to his saddle, was unlatched and rested ready for bear. Then, as she watched him, he unclasped the javelin as well, placing it across his thighs. It struck her as odd and made her shiver despite the droplets of sweat she could feel rolling down her spine. From her time in the library of Marmoreal, she knew the only danger of Crims was not its creatures, but simply its size and lack of immediately available water. So what would the knight be leery of?

"Is something amiss?"

Hart jumped, having not expected Alice's voice to come from his left flank. A glance proved that she was waiting for an answer, her eyes demanding even if her tone had been casual. "Amiss? We have yet to be attacked..."

Alice closed her eyes, expression tightening for a moment as she realized he took her words quite literally. "Is there something wrong, Sir Hart?" she opened her eyes and wrestled on a more normal expression. "You look ready for a fight."

Nari sneezed and shook her head. "Nothing leaving the desert won't cure."

"The salt in the air agitates her nose, you see." Hart explained unhelpfully. Alice couldn't so much as see a grain of salt let alone smell it on the faint breeze.

"So...you have your weapons ready to bare against...salt?"

He smiled faintly. "A mere precaution, m'lady."

The Champion was unappeased but changed tracks for the time and nudged Lowell into keeping even pace at Nari's side. The panther and bandersnatch sized one another up by glance and flicked ears but did not come to blows or snarls. "When we came to Witzend, that night at the archway, you mentioned that Salazen Grum was host to..." she paused while recalling the words. "...more evils than were cast out. What did you mean?"

Only the wind answered for a long minute, Hart's countenance frozen in a stern expression. "Nonsense, m'lady. The evil bred there surely would have fled by now without its mistress and master to keep it to task." His eyes narrowed on the horizon, the red land scalded with a touch of orange as the sun drooped. "Surely..."

He'd avoided her question again and Alice sighed curtly. She looked back to see Tarrant testing thimbles, flexing his fingers as though he'd donned highly prized rings. Realizing that he was not the utter last of his line seemed to have taken some of the weight from his shoulders and his smile. In turn, this of course made her own heart lighter and she dropped back to far more amicable company. "A thousand thimbles yet I've still bandaged your fingers countless times these past three years."

He laughed and waggled the thimble-capped fingers at her. "Ah but the right one remains to be found and hats are quite demanding, you know. Can't simply put them aside until _the_ thimble is found!"

Alice smiled and nodded in agreement, pausing to sip from a water skin and taking note of the sky. Evening approached and Tarrant's voice from years ago came back to her with a shiver. _Twas brillig...and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe._ At that time he had been trying to reach out to her, to restore what she used to be. Now the rhyme of the Jabberwocky made her nervous, as though the beast would come back for his head. She looked away from the sky. "Lillian was marvelous, Tarrant." She smiled slyly. "She says you were trouble before you settled to your trade."

An expression of pure indignation came over his face and Alice could only laugh. "I was not _trouble_! I was..." his face twisted into a number of comedic and thoughtful poses as he attempted to find the right euphemism that would avoid telling too much. "Willful!" he stated at last, beaming.

Morgan snorted and shook his head. "Dress an ass in finery and it's still an ass, you know."

Tarrant made a face at him and Alice wiped a tear from the corner of one eye. "I can't wait to see her again."

It made the Hatter perk. "So you liked my family?"

"Of course." she offered quietly, suddenly shy.

It was difficult to tell for the warm light of evening but both seemed to sport matching, pleased blushes and Tarrant was at a loss for words so stacked the thimbles on one fingertip only to try and balance them on an elbow. Alice watched with a smile, one that faded as Lowell stopped. "Lowell?"

The thimbles crashed to the ground with soft clinks and Alice, already stopped of Lowell's volition, slid out of the saddle and scooped them up. From the ground, odd how she hadn't seen it from the saddle, she saw that Nari was stopped and turned so the length of her from nose to tail tip blocked their path. Hart was quickly retrieving his halberd when Alice noticed something odd. The desert shimmered, it had been doing so all day, but in the distance, the shimmers were moving together, forming strange lumps that marched into reality as the bodies of cards. "Red Knights!" she gasped.

"Not like you've seen them." Hart growled. "Form up and bear arms, men! Give no quarter and guard the Champion with your lives!"

The "march" she'd seen before turned into a run and there was a horrid rasp in the air, a sound not unlike rusted metal trying to breathe. She ran for Lowell, who was already twitching and drooling over the approaching conflict, and retrieved sword and shield. Fun as Lowell was to ride, in conflict Alice would have been able to do little beyond holding on and praying he remembered she was on his back. She jammed the thimbles into a pocket and found that she couldn't remember a moment of her training, now that it came down to it. "Bloody fine time..." she muttered under her breath.

Hart and Galen remained mounted and bore weapons, Kreig and Nari being the largest of them. The two were not unfamiliar with combat and while Nari and Hart were still fairly new as a team, Kreig and Galen were a flawless engine of war. The great horse snorted and stomped, a coiled spring ready to be triggered. Hart gave the sign, throwing his javelin with precise aim and taking down one of the knights.. Galen and Kreig sprang into action, leading the charge, and as the bulk of horse, panther, and bandersnatch cleared her vision, Alice noticed that these were, as Hart said, not Red Knights as she had known them.

Certainly, their color was red and they wore the same jointed armor however the eye slits of their helms were dark and lifeless and their armor coated with rust. As the first blows rang out, she nearly fainted to see that the helms split open jaggedly below the eye slits, creating mouths that made the terrible rasp. When the mouths opened, there was nothing inside but darkness, an empty void...there were no bodies inside! A score of them swarmed around the knights but Kreig and Lowell did a fine job of keeping the odds favorable.

Tarrant dismounted and grabbed the back of Alice's shirt as she ran to help. "No, lass! We're about t'have our own troubles." The claymore came free from its saddle-locked hold and drew Alice's attention to the five knights approaching them.

"Is that anything like willfulness?" she retorted with a smirk, readying her stance.

A laughed shout was her answer as Tarrant stepped into the fight with a large, aggressive swing. The Champion held two of her own to deal with, noticing that Morgan was lingering near her. "Go help the Hatter!" she hissed, backing away from her opponents, who kept an eerily steady approach. The horse hesitated and Alice shoved him off. "_Go!_" He brayed and nervously kicked at one of the knights, missing before running to do as commanded. The knights paid him no mind, continuing to follow Alice's backpedaling with seemingly no hurry to harm her...which was the only thing to alert her. A glance back proved that they had almost backed her onto the cracked land Hart had warned them of!

With her first step to the side instead of back, the knights realized she was not following the plan and attacked with rusted, broken spears. The three fell into an uneven rhythm and Alice nearly lost her sword once and her shield twice as the spears had broad hooks attached to their usually harmless ends. The doubled attacks were wearing on her quickly, drawing her energy and breeding frustration. A cry of anger powered the fall of her sword and she shattered one of the spears in two. It drew the knights to a shocked stillness that lasted just long enough for Alice to realize she'd made a mistake.

The remaining spear jabbed and put her on the defensive while the weaponless knight staggered into her and managed to get a hot metal hand around her slim throat. Brown eyes widened and Alice managed a short cry of alarm before the hand squeezed and cut off all sound. The other knight stood by, his missing eyes watching and rusted body standing impassive. Alice imagined she'd never fight someone in a helm ever again...if she lived to see such a thing. Clawing at the hand proved useless. The grip was unyielding and deathly patient, simply waiting for her to die. Her vision began to fuzz and she imagined her hearing was too as there was a great roar she knew from somewhere though it sounded far away...

Her body was wrenched with sudden and strong force, taking her from death on her knees to face-down on the ground coughing but able to breathe! The dry air had never been so sweet! She staggered to her feet and it was only a moment before the Hatter was there beside her, his eyes vivid and showcasing an animated starburst of change between green and yellow. "Alice! Are you well?"

He twisted her head about gently, feeling at her neck, and Alice felt tears stream down her cheeks while her lower lip trembled. "I...I...I-I'm f-fine..." The way she clung to his shirt said otherwise. "Tarrant...did you...the knights...?"

Being quite practiced at forming sentences from fragments, the Hatter shook his head, his expression somber. "No lass, tha'd be yer furry friend t'thank."

Lowell had heard Alice's cry in the midst of all else and had bounded over with a skyrocketing bloodlust at the sight of the knights looming over his mistress. Bodily, he landed upon the waiting knight, a sickening crunch indicating the end of his foe, before biting into the jointed armor of the one choking his mistress and shaking him off. He had not been finished, though, and followed his still-moving prey as the knight fled. A healthy leap and Lowell was upon him. Another crack sounded and steam fogged his sight for a moment, though his prey was still moving until his paws. Lowell growled and pressed down harder, forcing the knight into the earth. He flailed under the pressure, the earth beginning to swallow him. The desperate flailing became panicked spasms that dwindled into nerveless twitching. Satisfied, Lowell sought his mistress and saw her nearby with the silly man. Happy, he wagged his long tail...or tried to.

"Oh my god! _Lowell!_"

"Shit, grab her! _Someone grab her!_"

He watched the short blonde jump on his mistress and Lowell growled. That was certainly not something she wanted, she would have laughed instead of screaming! Lowell roared and tried to go to her, to defend her, but his legs wouldn't work. Confused, his great head swung between his mistress and his hind quarters, which were slowly being consumed by the mire under the broken earth much like the prey he'd just forced under. Panic bubbled in Lowell. This was not right.

"_LOWELL!_"

The bandersnatch bayed and yelped in sudden fright, sounding much more like a puppy than a vicious monster. His ribs worked overtime as he tried to fight the pull of the muck, using the suffocated body of the knight as a base for his forepaws. Yet even that support was already half-consumed by the quick-sand like mud. His efforts proved to be in vain as the earth would not release him. He whined helplessly for his mistress even as he began to paw at the mud, trying to claw his way free. For all his attempts and ferocity, the mud was only getting into more of his fur, getting between his toes...he was all the more stuck.

And sinking.

Galen howled as Alice managed to get a hit in his groin, breaking free and racing for Lowell, who perked at her approach. She was coming! She would be able to help him! The bandersnatch's heart swelled. Alice stopped where the cracked earth started, walking that edge as she tried to figure out how she could help! Simply running over would mean death for herself, a suicide mission if ever there was one, and how would she alone be able to pull tons of bandersnatch free of quicksand mud? The unfairness of it was crushing down on her and guilt nearly killed her on the spot as Lowell looked to her with such hope and trust in his eyes!

Hart approached and stopped beside her, his expression stoic and impassive. Alice wiped the tears from her cheeks and looked up to him. "Can we save him?"

The knight glanced back at the sun, halfway under the horizon, and back to Lowell as another heartbreaking yelp reached them. The beast was stuck up to his chest and now one paw was claimed. The other lamely clawed at the mud, still trying in vain to reach a freedom that would not be granted. Hart gave him credit for the effort. "Not now, I'm afraid."

Fresh tears sprung with his quiet declaration and Alice fell to her knees sobbing. Tarrant hesitantly approached and knelt, stroking her back soothingly. Upon seeing him, the Champion clung to the Hatter and wished she could wake up from this nightmare.

Lowell continued to cry.


	11. Chapter 11

_Some quick notes:_

_Graces is an actual Victorian-Era game. Look it up, imagine Iracebeth playing, and you tell me why I find it funny. ^^_

_Shorter chapters recently for trial effect, send me a PM if you're liking the longer ones better.  
_

_All mistakes are mine._

xxxx

Dark eyes narrowed on the sunset, the last rays more brilliant than the rest. Hart's study was calculating and sharp and counted on him being cold enough to ignore the tragedy he'd turned his back to. At his side, Nari waited with curiosity, her ears swiveling towards the knight and dying bandersnatch. She'd made her fair share of kills and knew the sound. Lowell was suffocating as the mud gripped his ribs. A glance proved that the beast was still struggling though the mire had claimed his other arm and was closing on his neck. The panther looked to Alice and sighed. "Shame, really."

"You weren't even fond of him." Hart noted.

"I didn't wish him dead." Nari growled softly. "I meant it's a shame we can't save him for her. She looks as though the world's come down around her."

"So it is her you are fond of?" Hart chuckled, stepping away to pick up one of the spears from the fallen knights. "Aren't we all?"

Nari kept pace beside him as he walked to the next nearest knight, taking his spear as well. "What are you doing?"

He pulled at the hooked end of the spear, satisfied when it appeared to be very sturdy and did not give. Another glance at the sky that had changed from bloody to a violet mix and he collected yet a third spear, testing the hook with another satisfactory result. "I am very fond of our Champion as well, Nari. I will do what it takes to see her smile."

"So you are...?" her whiskers twitched.

"Galen! Wipe your nose and take a spear, man!" Hart tossed one of the spears to a sore Galen. "I'm going to put the poor beast out of his misery, of course! Hatter, if you would be so kind as to assist?"

xxxx

The heat of her tears and the warmth of the man that was her wall did nothing more than remind Alice all too keenly of the chill pressed against her lips. Sharp yelps turned to more pathetic whines, a rasp to their tails, which cut at the Champion's heart and made the icy kiss all the more tempting. It promised a way out, an escape from this reality and the pain consuming her; it would be all too easy. Shivering, she lipped at the vial, hidden away beneath Tarrant's shirt, wishing behind closed eyes that by drinking, she could take the best of Underland with her.

"...put the poor beast out of his misery, of course! Hatter, if you would be so kind as to assist?"

Hart's voice tumbled around Alice's mind for a few moments before the words settled into order. When they did, all thoughts of the vial or escaping were swept aside by a tidal wave of shock and grief. She pulled free of the comforting embrace and staggered to her feet, glaring daggers at the tall knight. "You're just going to _kill_ him!"

He seemed unmoved by her tone. "The desert will do a fine enough job of it soon. If you'll excuse me. Galen, turn the damn spear around you fool!" Hart extended one of the spears to Tarrant, who stared at it in bewilderment for a moment before accepting the weapon.

Aghast, Alice could hardly move. She trembled as anger overtook grief in a race to the surface. "So that's it then? And just how do you plan to _get_ to him to finish him off?" Hart sighed in exasperation and rolled his eyes, stepping around her and straight onto the cracked earth.

Which held his weight without shattering.

Alice watched in shock as Tarrant and Galen joined the knight on the deadly surface, which held even under their combined weights! "What...?" she whispered, rooted to the spot until she recalled the goal of the men. Ferocity filled her and she picked up on of the hooked spears herself, running straight for Lowell. The ground proved to be less solid that she imagined and she could now see the mud pressing up from between the cracks, the surface shifting under her weight. She ran all the faster as Hart's spear disappeared at Lowell's side and the bandersnatch yelped weakly. Galen and Tarrant followed suit, which very nearly caused Alice to pass out on the spot. Tarrant knew exactly how much she valued Lowell, had just been comforting her over his approaching death! That he would be a _part_ of his death...

Huffing, she opened her mouth to rage at the men but was forced to pause as Lowell growled savagely and wrenched a shoulder free of the mire, which seemed thicker than just a short time ago. "Come on, the arm too!" Hart growled straight back at the bandersnatch.

Lowell strained to breathe and move as the second shoulder came free of the muck. He caught Alice's eye and she could see the fierce determination there, the will to live and to get back to her! A brown eye narrowed suspiciously. Something was off. Truly focusing on the situation, Alice noticed that the men were careful to stay away from the broken edges of the ground, which would not be effective for spearing the beast. The rising crescent moon's light showed her that the broken, jagged spear points were up in the air, not buried within Lowell. The bandersnatch's chest came free as did an arm and in Lowell's struggles, Alice could see that the hooked ends of the spears were caught on the straps of Lowell's tack...that annoying tack that Mirana had insisted upon! "Oh god..." she breathed, not sure whether to be elated or angry at the Queen. She rushed to join her companions and gently found a strap to catch with her hook, pulling with every ounce of strength she could manage and calling encouragement to her beloved beast. "That's good, Lowell! Keep going!"

The bandersnatch responded eagerly to her efforts, panting happily as though Alice hadn't _just_ joined in the attempt to save him. He wriggled and half-swam half-crawled through the mud that had grown dense with the passing of the sun, the hooks keeping his body from sinking further in his motions. "Like landing a big, ugly fish!" Galen laughed as the four of them put a final, supreme effort into getting the bandersnatch onto solid land. They continued to pull, however, as the ground groaned under Lowell's weight, displacing mud through the cracks. Only when Lowell was on guaranteed solid ground were the spears dropped.

Tired from the effort and welling with a myraid of emotions, Alice caught her breath while walking up to Hart, where she indicated he should lean down. He did so and Alice slapped him as hard as she was able. "For scaring me!" He looked at her in surprise and turned nearly as red as Crims when she kissed the stinging cheek and smiled benevolently. "For saving him."

"M-my pleasure, my Lady." he stammered boyishly.

She gave a similar kiss to Galen, minus the slap, as well as an apology, which the knight accepted with a wary eye. Undaunted by his cynicism, Alice rushed to Tarrant and hugged him tightly, drawing back with a blush not visible in the dim night. Her face lingered near his, close enough to share breath. "Thank you." she whispered softly.

For the rest of his days, Tarrant would swear up, down, backwards, and upside-down (it had to be so elaborate as her denials were equally so) that she had kissed him in that moment, as ghostly and faint of a kiss as it was. He almost didn't let her go yet managed the feat, whereupon she ran to Lowell and hugged his thick neck, uncaring that he was covered in foul mud. His heavy tail thumped happily but he did not rise, exhausted from his trials, and he licked the side of her face once when she brushed the mud away from an eye. That night Alice fell to sleep tucked between Lowell's neck and a paw, the pair drifting while she scratched behind his un-muddied ear.

xxxx

Left to their fates under the sun of Crims, the bodies of the mutated Red Knights stared mutely at the party the next day. Hart was again on point and Alice had not asked when he'd stopped to wrench a shoulder plate off one of the knights. It had been tucked away from sight, to her silent gratitude, and it seemed that while wary, the party was in better spirits as Galen sang in his off-key manner. Though perhaps that was just the knight's own blessed ignorance.

They passed the dry North at last and by mid-morning had found the road to Crims. Hart had them back-track to the bridge that crossed the Swollen River so they might refill their water supplies. He advised it was going to be the cleanest place they were going to find for a while and, recalling the moat of Salazen Grum, Alice was not going to argue the point. It also gave her and Lowell a place to wash off, the beast becoming clean of the mud that had dried and caked into his fur. The clothing Alice had packed away was fairly ruined by the mud but her journal had been wrapped in wax paper to preserve it and was thankfully undamaged! The rest would have to wait for Marmoreal and until the cleaned saddle dried, it was removed and tied up with the bags, leaving Alice to ride Lowell in the manner she was accustom to.

The break also gave Alice time to pin-down Hart for answers, which the knight provided only after the party was underway again. "They are not knights."

Alice bit her lip, trying to not laugh as it was not directed at the knight. Hart was trying to explain the Red Knights but for all her interest in the topic, she could not shake the niggling thought that she wanted a hat to keep the sun off. Tarrant's did a marvelous job of keeping the Hatter's head in the shade and Alice's only escape from it would come if she put her cowl up. The idea of leather over her wet hair sounded more depressing than facing the sun so she endured.

"They were certainly dressed for the part!" Tarrant grumbled, unhappy with the riding arrangement. The four were in a row this time, following the road to the fortress, however so Hart could be heard, Alice rode to the knight's left, which put him between the Hatter and Champion. Tarrant grumbled over the fact that it was likely deliberate.

"True, but they are not red knights. They have the armor but it is just a shell. Within are withered forms, easily broken."

"I couldn't see anything inside their helms..." Alice hinted.

"Like I said, they are withered...there will barely be much of a head within their helms. Trust me, m'lady, you cannot break the neck of a ghost." He smirked and Alice almost challenged his words, just to be difficult. "The Red Queen practiced dominion over living things but that did not stop her from crossing into...other territories."

"She took up chess-playing?" the Hatter grinned.

"Twenty Questions, I would think." Alice added.

"Oh no, don't tell me it was Jackstraws!"

"Graces!"

Hart sighed and ignored the ribbing coming from either side of him, gritting his teeth when Galen mentioned adoring Jackstraws. "Those...creatures, go out and hunt things into the Slough, where they are suffocated by the mud. The hooks on their spears are used much as we did, to drag prey from the mud. The body would be left so the mud would dry under the sun and essentially begin to cook whatever it coated."

Alice stopped laughing. Tarrant still chuckled about Jackstraws, having not absorbed Hart's latest words. The Champion looked to Lowell, who was now mud-free but had been shedding chunks of fast-dried mud after the sun came up. "Yesterday you said that Lowell couldn't be saved...yet we walked right across to help him."

He held up a hand. "When you asked, I said "not now." During the day the Slough is as dangerous as you saw. With the sunset, the Slough cools enough that it is possible to cross it, carefully."

Despite the fact that it was her own fault for not clarifying, Alice was still annoyed with the knight for simply standing by while she suffered a broken heart. "How do you know all this? About the Slough and those...things?"

"Used to lead them, didn't you?" Tarrant pointed out cheerfully, happy to be a step ahead in the conversation. Hart went deathly quiet, his expression narrowed. "Come to think of it, you seem familiar somehow. Have we met before? Surely not over tea, I never forget a person's favorite tea...except for Alice since she won't settle on just one tea and keeps me on my toes about which one she'd like today so I always have a variety along with those strange mini-sandwiches that she ca-."

"Hatter." Alice called, smiling in affectionate dismay.

"...itch, tea...oh..." he laughed nervously.

"Ah, there it is!" Galen pointed out with a whoop, shielding his eyes. "The port city of Salad Greens and the Bloody Head Fort at last! Can we have lunch now?"

The Champion blinked and shook her head at the abrupt turn of his thought process. "Will we encounter more of those things, Sir Hart?" she asked softly.

Hart's expression remained at a rather strained yet neutral pose. "Let's just finish what we came here for, Champion. By your leave?"

Troubled, Alice did not grant leave. "I will not walk us into an ambush, Hart." Her tone turned icy. "Any other secrets we should know about before entering the Fortress?"

They were within sight of the moat now and she watched Hart's eyes flick towards it, a pained expression ringing his eyes for a mere second before the controlled mask was back. "The gate should be open and the bridge down. We should not encounter any surprises. The scouts reported Salazen Grum as empty, did they not?"

Her words thrown back at her, Alice narrowed her eyes on the knight, who gave nothing away. "They did." A beat to gather her thoughts before her entire persona lightened in a way that only a refined woman trained in the art managed. "Sir Galen, if you would be so kind as to lead us through the gate?"

Eager to at last perform as he believed a knight should, Galen drew his sword and hallooed a charge more fit for war than peace but Alice wasn't about to berate him. The White Knight drew ahead of them, Kreig's hooves thundering across the bridge and towards the yawning, fanged gateway of the Red Fortress.


	12. Chapter 12

_Oh my, an update! Apologies for this taking so long. It just wouldn't write except in pieces. As usual, all mistakes are mine._

xxxx

Ominous.

It was the only word that came to mind when Alice looked around the fortress and to the tops of the palisades. Granted a fortress was not meant to look welcoming by any means but it was less the look and more of the history that bothered her. The walls and windows were crumbling and broken, the banners torn and burnt, and the entire place had a sense of _age_ about it that hadn't existed before. She turned slowly, the courtyard open to her inspection. Lowell sniffed and growled at the remnants of the shack that had been his home...truly a shack compared to the plush stone abode he inhabited in Marmoreal. Nari lounged in a patch of shade, swatting irritably at Morgan as the young steed pranced about, feeling cock of the rock to be among the ruins of the Red Fortress!

"Less to look at than it once was."

Alice glanced sideways, not turning her head towards the tall knight. Hart eyed Tarrant anxiously and had been doing so since they first followed Galen's fearless hallooing (which was at first heart-stopping) that all was clear. His long hands had jumped to the dagger at his side more than once though why was anyone's guess. Alice had backed into not trusting him but was still willing to talk. "It has been three years."

"No, no...I meant less to look at then it was when the King was still alive." Hart gnawed on a leather glove tip, each nerve ending more alive than ever. He felt watched and was more than eager to leave the fortress. "We should move on...it was the port you wished to see, yes?"

She absorbed the scene further, finding that a part of her was all too happy to oblige to his logic, the part that curled up in a corner and shivered in the face of all the horrors done within the stone walls; horrors done unto herself and others. Staring so long was convincing her ears that the walls held the echoes of Iracebeth's shrieking, the mockery and laughter of a yes-man court, and the clank of a hundred card suits. Her golden head shook briefly. "You are correct, we should press on."

"_Alice!_"

Tarrant's sudden call made everyone jump and hands twitch for weapons, stances that relaxed bitterly as Tarrant bounded gleefully, unharmed, across the courtyard. If Hart physically staggered back from the Hatter's path, no one made comment on it. Alice did note that the knight skulked over to Nari and crouched beside her, dark eyes pinned to Tarrant's shoulders. "Hatter?" she asked, surprised when the man paused only long enough to gather her hands in his own before attempting to gently coax her in the direction he'd come from.

"Come, come! You must see this!"

Before the knights could protest, Alice was away, guided by the Hatter's gentle grip upon her hand. Through a doorway that had lost its door (_Just a way then, perhaps? Do they have such classes?_) and down a dim corridor, Alice followed without pause. Thoughts of past shadows and recent scares dissolved in the warmth of their clasped hands and such a unique joy filled her that when he stopped, she deliberately continued to move and hugged his back. All was still for several moment, locked in a golden hazy space of time in which there were no hesitations or uncertainties. Words unsaid were loud and soothing in the silence. Her cheek nuzzled the material of his shirt and she sighed, moving to his side as though nothing had just happened; whereupon she gasped. "Oh my!"

The progressing light of afternoon cast an earthen glow to a veritable forest, one grown from what Alice knew was once a garden. A croquet garden to be precise. Before them was a wall of grass, tall as her elbows, and as she pressed into it, she realized there were no paths here. The growth was wild and unusually lush as though to deliberately spite long-gone caretakers. Along the walls the flowers were heavy, some still tightly wound in bud-shapes and the tended hedges had taken to growing, taller than Tarrant they had stretched and taken on odd shapes. Her head cocked at a few of them, wondering what would possess a hedge to take on the shape of a fish...or more importantly, how it would know what a fish looked like! "Unbelievable..."

"Still tossing that word around." Tarrant chuckled to himself, following the path her steps were creating. It was not perfectly clear but enough to know where to place his feet. "You see there? The flowers bundle up at our approach!"

"Quite rude." Alice smiled at the affront in his tone though she was perfectly content to avoid the chatter of flora. Marmoreal's gardens were full of such mouthy blossoms and at times it was impossible to enjoy having tea or a stroll! "This is amazing. Only three years and look how it has all grown!"

Tarrant examined the thorns growing among the ivy on the walls, each as thick as a pencil and sharp as his pins. "Grown indeed." He imagined the vines twitched and he hurriedly dismissed the testy plant, smiling as he approached Alice. "I imagined you would enjoy seeing such a place...though it could use some tending."

"And some animals..." Alice replied distantly, brows lowered in thought as she examined the area. Truly not one bird chirped nor insect hummed. The hedgehog of so long ago was not present, though she could not begrudge him that, and as she thought back, there had not been a single animal sound since they crossed the moat. Even the desert flies did not buzz past them nor try to bite at Lowell's nose. The flowers locked their bright colors away from their presence, it was beginning to unnerve her and she smiled at the Hatter, taking his hand. "Let's get back before Galen comes charging on a search."

His smile faltered slightly, wondering if she had not enjoyed the surprise. She did so love seeing new things that he imagined she would want to explore the strangeness of a forest in a palace for longer yet she was asking that they leave. It troubled him but he would not deny her. "O-Of course, you're right. By your leave."

xxxx

Forests and and fallen regimens aside, the Red Fortress remained an oddity on the landscape and Alice did not linger despite protests from Galen and sulking from Tarrant. Only Hart seemed to agree with her decision. She did not seek to rebuild the crumbling walls, to make the palace a fortress once again, and had quite frankly spent more time in the red halls than she cared to. Through a dilapidated courtyard and series of twisted and broken gates, the party moved in silence. However each tiny sound caused them to jump, Nari nearly unseating Hart twice though they seemed to be of a single mind, jumping in tandem.

Passing through the last gate towards the city, Galen smiled despite the alert turning of his head and began to sing softly:

"Fear no more the Jabberywock,

So the criers have said!

By Vorpal blade and iron will,

The beast now lies dead!"

Musicians composed songs about her victory, tapestries were produced, plays were put on...Alice was quite sick of it all (Bayard and Bielle's pups aside). Galen sung two more verses before a brief but sharp look from Alice cut him off. He changed focus immediately. "Oh, must be the market road here."

"We passed the market row, idiot." Hart grumbled, alternating between glancing behind himself and towards Nari's ears.

They were in the open now, for all intents and purposes; a stretch of clear land between the fortress walls and where the buildings of industry and docks crowded the coastline. All was still now, no ravens or rats to be found as they slipped between two warehouses. Lowell carelessly knocked aside crates and barrels with his broad shoulders, grey eyes unconcerned with such trivial things when a dock, as his paws crossed onto it, groaned under his weight. When Kreig stopped beside him, there was an even more ominous groan from the wood and Hart called a halt.

"Nothing personal." Hart dismounted, Nari shaking herself vigorously.

"Need to lay off the oats, Kermit!" Galen chastised as his feet struck the planks. "Kermit" snapped his tail at Nari when the feline snickered in her cat-like way. Morgan merely turned from Tarrant and sniffed at the edges of the dock, the black grass almost spicy. He sneezed and coughed before deciding it would be best to simply wait. Maybe Nari would talk with him.

Galen reached Alice before the Hatter and proudly assisted her on her dismount. Alice wondered if he ever tried to make himself taller by raising his chin. With a polite ascent of thanks, Alice gained her feet and scratched at Lowell's ear, eyes at the ocean. She toed the edge of the pier and gasped softly. "The water...!"

"Red." Hart nodded, standing beside but a respectful distance away from her. "And no...not from blood."

Sorrel eyes regarded Hart wryly. It was the first bit of humor, and smirk, the knight had shown in hours. "Why, then?"

To answer, and possibly to annoy the other men, Hart escorted her to the beach and pointed out the sand. The dead grass faded into a coarse red sand patch-stained black from industry before meeting the wash of the Crimson Sea. "The red storms make up most of the land of Crims. The pellets fall and are taken into the sea, staining it." He offered a rakish smile. "Or so they say."

He left her to her musings, of which often contained a particular milliner, who did not mind squeezing into her space. "Drink before it's cold!"

A familiar clay cup was thrust under her nose and she smelled orange and spices. She accepted the cup and turned in time to see the Hatter pull a second steaming cup from his shirt cuff. "Off the cuff?"

Her jibe brought a smile to his lips and he sipped. "Impromptu. Haven't had tea for a time now and here it is past lunch."

"Hatter, your watch is broken..." Alice pointed out before taking a sip of her own.

He cocked his head at the watch as through it might speak, glaring until the second hand began ticking. "Oh, there we go!" It was tucked away as merrily as produced, the time still incorrect. "Testy things...more touchy than a doorknob!"

"But faster to action, I can see." she smirked.

He frowned. "It had best not be running fast. Last time I almost ended up in the Queen's private chambers chasing it down!"

"I could just imagine the Queen's fa-" she was cut off by an inhuman scream. Hardly a thought and she was gone towards it. Tarrant caught the tossed cup and followed with mutterings about fine china.

xxxx

"_Nari!_"

The great cat snarled, whiskers spiked skyward and claws ripping through the retired wood of the dock as she struggled to avoid being dragged backwards. Despite Hart's oh-so-assuring advice that the castle was dead, here was an entire battalion of the mangy metal obscenities, three attempting to drag her off to whatever unpleasant fate. Dirt and blood stained her fur and her ankles ached where the ropes bit tight. She was going to maul the knight without apology.

Morgan, slightly more accustom to their attackers, was now pointed in his strikes however without a rider to guard his flanks and being built only for short assaults, he was tiring quickly. Kreig, on the other hand, moved with the confidence of experience, using his weight and sized against the ungainly enemy as he tried to avoid Lowell, who seemed to be in no hurry or deliberate delay to save Nari. Galen was lost in the pack however Kreig could still hear his overplayed exclamations ("Aha! Hoo, HA! Hyah! Don't crowd lads, plenty of steel for all!") so did not worry.

Hart had lost his javelin and polearm, now down to only his dagger and a broken left arm. He counted perhaps thirty of the wretches, their numbers keeping the knights and beasts from striking at full strength. Lowell was not helping. "Stupid goddamn pea-brained monster..." He ducked a swipe from a hooked spear, turning to follow through when he was struck by the sight of the Champion dodging and cringing her way through the rusted mass. "Galen!" he shouted, nodding towards her. Whether the knight saw him or not remained to be seen and Hart tried to move towards her, seeing that she was running for the bandersnatch, a gold-eyed and grinning Hatter guarding her back.

Hardly a moment passed before Lowell realized that the fight had changed. The annoying cat was still fighting her captors and the giant not-food-horse was still standing. The smaller was not in Lowell's scope and therefore ignored however all fell into oblivion when he picked up Alice's scent. New purpose filled the beast and he plowed eagerly through the angry rusted bodies until he nearly ran over his mistress, having to toss a knight out of his way to clear her path. She climbed straight up his shoulder for her sword.

"Nari, Lowell! Go!" she shoved him, the equivalent of moving a mountain, and though she thought she saw his eyes roll, he was on task, driving furrows in the fight.

"_Hoho_! Come on then! You too there, let's make it fair!"

Gaining her bearings, Alice pressed her back to Tarrant's, huffing a snort. "Think Galen is enjoying this?"

"E's a sick man, tha' one." he laughed. "Ye forgot yer shield."

Alice winced and dodged a swipe, deflecting it from Tarrant's side. "Do I need one with you here?"

Any reply was cut off by a sharp cry and the immediate stillness that followed. The rusted, mishappen knights turned their heads in creepy synchrony, promptly ignoring all others (including one rather irate giant cat) to rush where Hart was fighting. With speed, the mass of knights squeaked and shuffled their ways between buildings and back towards the fortress, leaving their dead without care. Confused, it took the party a moment to react. Nari limped towards them, nose twitching. "Where is Hart?"

Man, woman, and horse (for Lowell was still busy clawing a knight's corpse) looked to the knight's location only to see a small pool of blood, several droplets trailing towards the fortress. Alice swallowed, her stomach negotiating terms with her tonsils. "He's...?"

"Not dead." Galen finished, checking Kreig for wounds. "To stubborn to die. Hibble's got a knack for escaping death, you know."

"The leader is killed by his crew. Romantic." Nari deadpanned, chewing on the ropes around her ankles.

Alice hurried over to help cut them off, the feline watching with wary eyes. The champion's hands were still a bit shaky. "We'll...we'll just have to go and get him then."

"You do remember he lied to us, lass?" Tarrant cocked a brow, sword at ease on his shoulder. "Called th' demons from th' fortress, 'e could 'ave."

Nari licked her ankles carefully. Aside from a bit raw, there was little deep damage that she could feel. "You would name him a traitor? Drew the Champion out to kill her?"

One of the Hatter's eyes twitched and Alice interrupted, stroking Nari's broad face. "I think not. He has been very loyal." Nari's eyes focused on her. "Until now that is but if it does turn out that he is a traitor, we will take him back for Mirana's judgment."

Tarrant's eyebrows rose as he looked past Nari. He giggled in the back of his throat, coughing and moving to stand beside Nari. Probably best to not tempt Alice's gut with the sight of Lowell working a leg down his throat. "We'd best move then. While they're not on the hunt."

"The mad-man has a point!" Galen hauled himself into the saddled. "We should attack when they are...doing...whatever it is they do!"

Worried over Nari's legs, Alice sighed. "We should find safe board for you all."

"I am fit for-!" Nari's eyes flipped backwards.

Fair hands lifted. "The hallways are too large for Lowell. He'll try to come looking for me if no one is with him."

The panther sniffed, sensing the lie. "You think we might stop him? The bandersnatch?"

Alice offered a wan smile. "Worth a try?"

Nari sighed, tongue passing over her muzzle. "Fine. The remnants of the garden seemed quiet enough."

xxxx

The advantage to a fortress, if you happen to be the attacking party, is that there are only so many places and doors. A quick stop by the yard-turned-forest and the three humans were exploring with caution, Alice leading them to lower floors as she had been all over the upper levels during her previous occupation. The light was minimal and Alice held sword in one hand, a stolen torch in the other, and her shield secure on her back – not without a knowing _look_ from the Hatter before they set out.

"Bloody hell the air is...distasteful! How could anything breathe here?" Galen scowled, cheeks puffing as he held a large breath of air.

Having paused, Alice and Tarrant glanced at one another with small shrugs. "Solution to that problem." he snickered.

She refused to laugh. This was a serious mission. The smile on her lips was coincidence. "We're...the dungeons?"

"Did we pass the kitchen already?" Galen whined.

So much for a solution. Alice stopped once more when she felt Tarrant's hand touch her side. The shiver that went through her was surely a figment, as was the warmth when he leaned close and pointed over her shoulder. "Should be a stairwell there."

"Oh."

They both twitched as Galen appeared beside them, peering at the light's reach. "What do you see?" he stage-whispered.

Tarrant just about bit his tongue growling. "Stairs."

"Ah! The way to Hilborne!" He drew his sword and charged the space. "Hold on, old man!"

Left with no choice, the pair followed and Alice surprised herself by clamping a hand over the knight's mouth. "Sire Galen!" she hissed.

Yet it was too late. The sound of squeaks and clanks started and increased – headed towards them. Tarrant stole the torch and jammed it into a nearby sconce, nodding towards the door at the bottom of the steps. "Go. We will handle the rabble!"

"But...!" She recalled the last time this happened she was tossed across a lake.

Galen snarled as the first enemy came in sight. Tarrant gently removed the hand gripping his shirt and kissed the knuckles. "Quickly now."

With that he joined the fray once again and Alice moved before she did something stupid. Carefully, she slipped past the door and while catching her senses, nearly gagged at the scent that assailed her nostrils. She turned to see she was at the top of a rail-less stone stairway. Several torches provided light to what appeared to be a very small cistern below and in it was a squarish contraption that might have resembled a carriage and a multitude of dark patches. In the middle was a large black hole that must have been where water came in. From the stench it seemed as though it never left. She buried her nose in her elbow and started down the stairs, ending at a stone landing just above the water level. Peering about, there were some ragged banners that hung over the far end and below them...she squinted and gasped. "Hart!" The knight was captive and possibly unconscious in a cage that wouldn't let a man of normal stature stand, much less Hart's lengthy features.

However not only the water gave her pause but there was movement beside the well – a dark lump lurched upward and Alice had her first view of the most horrid creature she had ever seen. Unfortunately it appeared to be mid-meal. An unhinged jaw and grabby hands forced a rotund green body into a wide throat. The rath's corpse resisted however the beast's hunger was great and shortly the body disappeared with a loud gulp. A lump moved down a serpentine neck, vanishing rather quickly into the gullet; she could see it land and felt green as the victim.

For a minute, the beast cooed and hummed is absurd contentment. Then a bulge formed on its backside, an area already rife with decay. The swell grew and grew until it was the size of a football and the color of long-soured milk. With an incredibly wet POP the bulge burst, loosing a spray of blood and puss. It was a fight to hold her stomach down yet she managed, somehow. As the remnants dribbled down the rotted flesh, she noticed that a rath tail and patch of green fur (mottled by muck) has been left in the swell's wake. The creature's head swung around to view the new appendage with apparent glee, the new tail swinging happily. All too soon however, the tail slowed, then twitched, only to cease responding altogether. It tried a few more times, whimpering dejectedly when met with failure. A great roar of rage tore from it while the head and limbs thrashed about in fury.

Alice waited until the monster had calmed before stepping forward, feeling quite mad for not fleeing at the sight of such a nightmare. "Pardon me..."

Stillness for a moment before the head of the beast swung around. "Hnnnnnnn..." it wheezed, tiny black eyes watching her with unclouded focus. "...youuuuu are not a victual...they do not sssssscurrrry about my home."

Its ribcage was visible against its skin, so stark that she imagined she could see organs when it drew breath after labored breath. The sagging, grotesque bulbous gut hung between thinly muscled legs, pulling the skin all the more taught against shoulders and ribs. Damp feathers, or perhaps fur (it was difficult to tell which), plastered the creature's neck, head, back, and became a limp bob tail lump at the end of its jagged spine. A face sharp as a needle but shaped like a spade stayed turned towards her, light shining off tiny eyes, and thin lips strained its speech. "I am not a Victual indeed. I am..." she paused, thinking about it. "...a...I'm a Mary Anne."

"Not one thing but two..." It, for she could not tell male or female, coughed and dipped its spade face into the citadel water, slurping a fetid gulp that made Alice's stomach churn. "What is it you want?"

Her eyes flicked around the room, eventually landing on the cage that held Hart, the knight bruised and cut but whole otherwise waking and beginning to realize that he was not the only company of the creature. His dark eyes widened when Alice smiled and looked to the beast and he made an effort to sit up, feeling several ribs violently protest his wishes. Alice heard the knight groan in the effort to sit up but she kept her smile on the beast. "What do you call yourself?"

"A rude two-thing. Answering a question with a question!" It coughed and harrumphed in a way she imagined might have been laughter...at one time. "I am Boojum...but not Boojum alone."

_Boojum_. It was as though ice water trickled down her spine. Boojums, from her reading, were hard to find yet easy to spot; the problem being that one usually only spotted them when being dragged off as a meal. They were reputedly quick and vicious, apex predators of the Underland food chain and they made no sign of their territories, all the easier to lure prey into their clutches. She swallowed to ease the sudden dryness of her throat. "I am only a two-thing. What other things are you?"

Another hard stare from the creature before it shook its neck, dirt and other mire plopping into the murky water. "Many things...too many for a two-thing like you to comprehend. But you should be grateful. You are a two thing...he is merely a Hart. He does not comprehend being of more than one."

Brought into focus, Hart drew what breath he could. "Get out of here!"

Alice ignored him, her curiosity stronger than her fear. For the moment. Whatever this "many thing" was, it certainly did not look like it was a stealthy predator and did not stray far from the wide mouth of the well that brought water in from the sea; all the better to ease the burden of its sloven gut. "Can I take him from you then? Surely a many-thing like you will have no need for a simple Hart."

"One-things have their uses." Its thin lips stretched in mockery of a smile. "This one-thing is sssmmmarter than the krans that dig in the mud. He is a leader of themmmm. He will tell meeee where she has gone. He will bring her back."

"_Krans_..." she whispered, brow furrowing. "Who is he looking for?"

Thin lips pulled back in another smile possibly meant to be endearing but was quite terrifying when the face was so decrepit yet the rows of interlocking fangs were white as bleached bone. "For her...the Red One...the leader of the One-Things."

The Champion's will steeled against the beast, her loyalties set with Mirana. "She will not be coming back."

It's spade-head cocked much like a bird. "Hoooow do you know thisss, Mary Anne?"

Alice lifted her chin, getting the nagging sensation that she aught to be more cautious but ignoring it in favor of the righteous feeling in her heart. "I defeated her Champion three years past. She has been banished to the wastes of Outland, never to return."

There was a higher-pitched wheeze and it was a moment before Alice realized the sound came from the non-Boojum's face, where two slit-like nostrils between its eyes flapped as it breathed. "Bring her back, two-thing. She keeps meeee...as a many-thing and I am losing much with Time's passsssing."

_T__hat did not stop her from crossing into...other territories. _Hart's words came back to Alice and a new bubbling of nausea made her lick her lips, throat convulsing when she realized exactly what it had all meant. A many-thing, indeed. Her eyes shot to Hart, who seemed a bit feverish. "This is what you did for her? Bring innocent creatures to..."

"I did not know!" Hart cried, cringing at the pain it caused. "By my life I did not know until the Hatter came to the fortress!" Tears slipped from his eyes but he pressed on, unable to stop himself. "I was...I was his t-torturer. But he would not say any...thing. Nothing but gibberish!" Sweat mixed with his tears and he hoped his internal injuries weren't worse than he imagined. "M-my refusal to whip a madman...had me branded...and demoted..." His hand was tingling with numbness from how tightly he gripped the bar.

"Yes, yes, the tall-thing brought you here." the creature wheeze-laughed. "You were to be a part of my mmmmmany. If the Red One is not to retuuurn, then you will become a paaaart of my many now...your legs should do nnnnicely."

Alice considered her option, watching the Boojum-creature slip-slide-waddle towards Hart's cage. "A many-thing..." If it was truly made of many things and carried characteristics, then it was possible... "_Wait!_"

Neckbones cracked audibly as the long neck twisted around, beady eyes blinking at her. "Your arms are ssssteady. I will have them nexxxxxt."

She set her jaw and reached into her pocket, producing a fist and opening it, relying on the low light to gleam off of five thimbles. It didn't seem possible but those beady eyes widened and strands of drool leaked from the needle-face's lips. The creature moved with unpredicted speed, rushing to Alice so quickly that the Champion gasped and cringed back, closing her fist to avoid losing the precious thimbles. The point of its face was mere inches from her fist and the nostrils wheezed in a high-pitched greedy sniff. "Such treasures, two-thinnnnnng..."

Alice trembled, feeling the fear in the noodle-like quality of her knees. The creature's face followed her fist and she took a few breaths, realizing that she had a degree of power at that moment. Here was a creature clearly capable of destroying her and yet it hesitated, as though waiting for her to _give_ the thimbles. Another deep breath and she summoned all of her courage. "Of the rarest sort. Let's discuss their exact values."


End file.
